strawberry ice cream

At least, that’s what he tells himself for the first few weeks it starts small. A text from you saying you’ll be late because you’re helping jungwon review his english notes. heeseung sends a heart emoji and “No rush, baby ❤️” even as he stares at the ceiling of the practice room, phone still in hand. It’s just studying, he thinks. You’re smart you like helping people. That’s one of the things I love about you. But then it happens again and again.

He asks if you’re free for dinner after a long schedule, and your reply comes almost instantly “Sorry, already promised Jungwon we’d grab ramen. Rain check?” He stares at the message until the screen dims, a faint knot forming in his stomach. Rain check sure. He ends up eating alone in the dorm, scrolling through his feed only to see a new story you posted you and Jungwon making silly faces over steaming bowls, your head tilted toward his shoulder as you both laugh.

The irritation is tiny at first, like a pebble in his shoe. He shakes it off deletes the screenshots he accidentally took. Tells himself he’s being ridiculous. But the pebble turns into a rock.

Every time he wants to spend time with you, you’re already with Jungwon. If he suggests a movie night, you’re already halfway through a drama marathon with him. If he tries to surprise you with coffee between schedules, Jungwon is already there, holding your favorite order and making you smile that bright, easy smile Heeseung thought was reserved mostly for him. Social media is the worst every other day there’s another photo you two at the arcade, you two walking the Han River at night, you two in matching hoodies because “Jungwon lost a bet and had to wear what I picked.”

Heeseung starts noticing things he never paid attention to before. The way Jungwon’s hand brushes your arm when he’s excited about something. The way you save the best bites of your food for him without thinking. The private jokes that make you burst into laughter at the dinner table while Heeseung sits across from you, pretending to scroll on his phone so no one sees the tightness in his jaw.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, he walks into the dorm common room hoping to finally steal you away for some quiet time. Instead, he finds you sitting cross legged on the couch beside Jungwon, laughing so hard you’re clutching your stomach, tears in your eyes. Jungwon is leaning into you, nudging your shoulder with his own, recounting some story with that mischievous leader grin of his. Neither of you even notices Heeseung standing in the doorway.

He stands there longer than necessary, watching. The way Jungwon’s eyes soften when he looks at you. The way you lean back into him so naturally, like it’s the most comfortable place in the world. Something ugly twists in Heeseung’s chest sharp and hot. He clears his throat, louder than needed.You both look up. Your face lights up instantly. “Heeseung! Come sit, you have to hear this—”

“I’m good,” he says, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Looks like you’re busy.”Jungwon tilts his head, sensing something but not pushing. “Hyung, join us. It’s funny, I swear.”Heeseung just shakes his head and heads to his room, the sound of your laughter following him down the hall like an accusation.

That night, when you finally slip into bed beside him, he’s unusually quiet. You cuddle up against his chest like always, but instead of relaxing into it, Heeseung wraps one arm tightly around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. His face buries into the crook of your neck, breathing you in like he’s afraid you might disappear. His other hand finds yours, fingers lacing together almost desperately.

“You know,” he murmurs against your skin, voice low and rough, “I think you’ve spent more time with Jungwon this week than with your actual boyfriend.”You laugh softly, assuming he’s teasing like he sometimes does. “Babe, are you counting?”He doesn’t laugh back. His hold on you tightens, almost possessive. “I’m serious i miss you.” The words hang heavy in the dark. “Every time I turn around, it’s Jungwon this, Jungwon that. I get it he’s important to you. He’s important to me too but lately… it feels like I’m the one on the outside.”

You shift to look at him, surprised by the raw edge in his voice. Heeseung’s eyes are shadowed, but the vulnerability there is unmistakable. He’s not angry exactly just aching. Jealous in a way he clearly hates admitting.“I didn’t realize…” you start, but he shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

“I keep telling myself it’s stupid,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “He’s like my brother. You’re allowed to have friends but then I see the way he makes you laugh like he knows exactly how to light you up and I just…” He exhales shakily, nuzzling closer. “I want to be the one who makes you laugh like that. I want to be the one you’re running to after a long day. Not feeling like I have to schedule time with my own girlfriend around someone else.”

His fingers trace slow, absent patterns on your hip, but there’s tension in every line of his body. “I hate feeling like this. Jealous of Jungwon, of all people. But I can’t help it anymore. You’re mine, you know? Or at least… I thought you were.” The confession lingers between you, heavy with weeks of unspoken insecurity. Heeseung holds you like he’s afraid letting go even a little will make the distance permanent. In the quiet of the room, his heartbeat is fast against your cheek proof that the easygoing, confident Heeseung has been quietly unraveling for longer than he’s let on.

You press closer, and for the first time in weeks, he lets out a small, relieved breath, though the jealousy still simmers just beneath the surface, waiting.

◟✿ jay ˒

Jay’s jealousy doesn’t look like insecurity or quiet pouting. It looks like competition. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it at first. Jay has always been the type to handle things head on cool, collected, a little cocky when he knows what he wants. And what he wants is you. So when Jake starts spending more time around you, Jay’s response is automatic step up match him beat him.

It starts small. Jake brings you your favorite iced coffee on a hot filming day? Jay appears twenty minutes later with the full meal your favorite pasta from that place across town, still warm, plus dessert because “you might get hungry later.” Jake offers to carry your heavy bag after practice? Jay is suddenly right there, taking your bag, your jacket, your water bottle, and the extra hoodie you forgot. He does it so smoothly that you barely notice the shift, just smile up at him with that grateful look that makes his chest tighten.

The other members catch on almost immediately. Sunghoon raises an eyebrow the third time it happens in one week. “Jay’s on a mission,” he mutters to Heeseung during dinner. Jungwon just smirks into his rice. They start placing bets on how long it’ll take before Jay cracks. One lazy afternoon in the dorm, you’re curled up on the couch beside Jake, both of you focused on his laptop. Jake is helping you pick out a birthday gift for your sibling, scrolling through pages of options with that easy, playful commentary that always makes you laugh. “This one? Nah, too boring. What about this ridiculous plushie? Your sibling would lose it.”

You lean in closer to see the screen, giggling. Jake shifts, his shoulder brushing yours as he points at something. “Wait, look at this—”The air changes.Jay, who had been quietly playing a game on his phone across the room, suddenly stands up. Without a word, he crosses the space in long strides, wedges himself directly between you and Jake on the couch, and sits down like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His thigh presses firmly against yours. One arm drapes casually along the back of the couch behind your shoulders.

Jake nearly chokes on his water. “ yo jay what are you doing?”Jay shrugs, eyes locked on the laptop screen like he’s been part of this conversation the whole time. “Watching.”“You weren’t interested five seconds ago,” Jake says, half laughing, half bewildered.“I am now.”You glance between them, amused but starting to sense the tension. Jay’s jaw is tight, even as he forces a charming smile and points at the screen. “That one’s cute but this—” He reaches over and scrolls to a different item, his hand brushing yours deliberately. “This matches their vibe better trust me.”

Jake stares at him for a second, then grins like a cat who just found the cream. “Ohhh. I see what’s happening here.”From then on, the teasing is relentless. Whenever you’re with Jake whether it’s practicing choreo, playing games in the living room, or even just chatting in the kitchen Jay materializes. He inserts himself into every conversation. If Jake makes you laugh, Jay immediately counters with a funnier story. If Jake compliments your new hairstyle, Jay is already pulling you closer and murmuring, “You look good in anything, but this color? Yeah, it’s my favorite on you.”

The members are merciless.“Jay-hyung is in full rivalry mode,” Sunoo teases one evening, watching Jay practically hover while you and Jake debate over snacks.“Careful, Jake he might challenge you to a dance battle next,” Jungwon adds with a straight face.Jay just rolls his eyes and pulls you into his lap on the couch, ignoring the chorus of groans and laughter. “Mind your business.”But inside, it’s eating at him more than he wants to admit.

He hates how natural you and Jake are together. Jake’s bright, easy energy complements yours so well. they share the same chaotic humor, and worst of all Jake never has to try it just flows. Meanwhile Jay feels like he’s constantly performing, constantly proving he’s the better choice.One night, after another long day of Jay “accidentally” showing up during your hangout with Jake, you finally corner him in his room.“Alright, spill it,” you say, closing the door behind you. “What’s going on?”

Jay sighs dramatically and flops back onto his bed, dragging you down with him. He wraps a strong arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his chest. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt, a little restless.“Can you blame me?” he mutters, voice low and laced with that signature Jay charm mixed with genuine frustration. “Jake’s funny he’s handsome annoyingly charming good with people and everyone loves him.” ( is he lying though 🤤 ₹You stare at him, trying not to laugh. “Jay you’re literally describing yourself.”

“Exactly.” He turns his head to look at you, dark eyes serious despite the smirk. “That’s why he’s a threat.”You blink. “A threat?”He nods, tightening his hold on you. “Yeah he gets to be around you all the time without even trying. Making you laugh, helping you with stuff, being all Jake. And I’m over here having to one up him just to remind you I exist.” His voice drops, the playful tone fading into something more vulnerable. “I know it’s stupid he’s my brother. But seeing you two together like that it makes me want to win every single time.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, then another to your cheek, his competitive edge softening into quiet possessiveness. “You’re mine, baby. I just hate feeling like I have to compete for your attention.”You cuddle closer, running your fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to compete, Jay ichose you.”He exhales, some of the tension finally leaving his shoulders, though the glint of rivalry still lingers in his eyes. “Good because I’m not planning on losing.”And from the determined way he holds you that night kissing you a little harder, touching you a little longer you know he means it.

◟✿ jake ˒

Jake is embarrassingly obvious when he’s jealous. He doesn’t even try to hide it his face is an open book, big brown eyes and all. The second he notices you spending more time with Sunghoon, his entire mood shifts. Not in an angry or possessive way, but like a giant sad puppy who just got told he’s being replaced by a shinier, cooler version of himself.It starts subtly, but everyone notices within days.

You and Sunghoon have always been close best friends who can spend hours talking about books, fashion, or just roasting each other without it ever feeling forced. Lately, with the group’s busy schedule, those hangouts have increased. Sunghoon’s calm, dry humor pairs perfectly with yours, and Jake watches it all unfold with growing dismay.

During a rare movie night in the dorm, you end up sitting beside Sunghoon on the big couch. The two of you are sharing a big bowl of popcorn, shoulders brushing every time you reach for snacks, laughing at the same ridiculous scenes. Sunghoon leans over to whisper a sarcastic comment in your ear, and you nearly choke on your drink from giggling.

Across the room, Jake sits on the opposite couch, knees drawn up, looking like someone just canceled Christmas, his birthday, and every future cuddle session all at once. His usual bright energy is nowhere to be found. Every few minutes he glances over at you two, then sighs loudly and looks away with dramatic flair, lips pushed into a full pout. He tries to focus on the movie but keeps failing miserably.

“Jake, come sit with us,” you call out at one point, patting the small space beside you. He perks up instantly, practically teleporting over only for Sunghoon to already be in the middle of explaining the plot twist to you. Jake ends up squeezed on your other side, but the damage is done. He keeps stealing glances, his hand subtly finding yours under the blanket, holding on a little tighter than usual.

When you finally shift fully to his side later in the night, curling against him, Jake lights up like the sun breaking through clouds. His arm wraps around you immediately, nose nuzzling into your hair.

“You okay?” you whisper.

“Yep,” he says, voice overly cheerful.

“You don’t seem okay.”

“I’m fine totally fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

He isn’t. The members catch on fast and have zero mercy. Sunoo starts mimicking Jake’s sad puppy eyes whenever you and Sunghoon are together. Jungwon keeps “accidentally” pointing out how good you and Sunghoon look as a duo just to watch Jake’s face fall. Even Heeseung teases him gently “Jake, if you stare any harder you’re going to burn a hole through the couch.” Jake just whines and buries his face in a pillow.

The jealousy builds over the week. You help Sunghoon pick out new clothes for an upcoming schedule? Jake shows up later wearing the exact hoodie you once said you loved on him, casually flexing in front of the mirror while asking your opinion every five minutes. Sunghoon teaches you a simple ice skating trick on a day off? Jake spends the entire next day sending you videos of himself trying ( and failing ) the same move, captioning them “I can do it better if you teach me instead 🥺”.

It all comes to a head one quiet evening.You’re both alone in his room, the lights dimmed. Jake has his head resting on your lap, legs sprawled across the bed, playing with your fingers absentmindedly. His usual playful energy is muted, replaced by soft sighs and lingering touches like he needs constant reassurance.“Sometimes…” he starts quietly, eyes fixed on your intertwined hands, “I get jealous of how easy it is for you and Sunghoon to hang out.”

You blink, gently brushing his hair back. “Jake, he’s my best friend.”“I know.” His voice is small.“You’re my boyfriend.” “I know that too.” He turns his face into your stomach, muffling his next words. “But what if one day you realize he’s cooler? He’s all mysterious and stylish and good at everything without even trying. You two have so much in common. You laugh at the same things, finish each other’s sentences sometimes… What if you wake up one morning and think, ‘Wow, Sunghoon would be a better match’?”

You stare down at him in disbelief before bursting into laughter. The genuine, heartfelt worry in his voice paired with that dramatic puppy-dog expression is too much. Jake lifts his head, looking deeply offended. “Don’t laugh! This is serious my heart is breaking here.”That only makes you laugh harder. You lean down and cup his cheeks, squishing them gently. “Baby, you’re the one who’s ridiculously charming, affectionate, and makes me smile every single day. Sunghoon is my friend. You’re the one I’m in love with.”

He pouts harder, but his ears turn pink and the corners of his mouth twitch upward. “Yeah?”“Yeah.” You kiss the tip of his nose. “No one could ever replace you. Especially not when you make jealous faces like a sad golden retriever.” Jake groans but finally cracks a smile, wrapping both arms around your waist and pulling you down so you’re half lying on top of him. “I can’t help it I just… really like you alot. The idea of anyone else getting your attention that easily makes me feel all weird and empty inside.”

He buries his face in your neck, peppering soft kisses there while his hold stays tight and clingy. “Promise you’ll sit next to me for the next ten movie nights? And maybe let me be the one to teach you dumb tricks instead of Hoon?”You smile into his hair. “Deal.” Jake lets out a content little hum, all the earlier sadness melting away as he snuggles impossibly closer. Even though the jealousy still simmers whenever Sunghoon makes you laugh too hard, he’s reassured for now clinging to you like the lovesick, obvious boyfriend he is. And honestly? You wouldn’t have him any other way.

◟✿ sunghoon ˒

Sunghoon becomes quieter when he’s jealous, which somehow makes it more obvious than if he were loud about it. Most people expect jealousy to look like possessiveness or sharp words, but Sunghoon turns inward instead retreating into that cool, icy shell he wears so well. The silence stretches longer. His usual subtle affection cools off. And because he’s normally so composed, the shift is impossible to miss.It starts after you spend an entire day with Jungwon.

The two of you had gone out for a casual shopping trip that turned into lunch, then a café stop, then wandering around a bookstore for hours. Jungwon’s easy energy and gentle teasing always make time fly. You come back to the dorm laughing about something he said, cheeks flushed from the cold air and the fun.Sunghoon is sitting on the couch when you walk in. He looks up, offers a small smile, and says, “You’re back.” That’s it. No playful comment about how you ditched him all day. No asking for details. Just two quiet words before he goes back to staring at his phone.

You notice immediately.Throughout the evening, his replies get shorter. When you sit next to him and lean against his shoulder, he doesn’t wrap an arm around you like usual. He just lets you stay there, stiff and distant. You ask if something’s wrong and he shakes his head.“Everything’s fine.”But it isn’t. You can feel the tension radiating off him.

Sunghoon hates feeling jealous. He thinks it’s irrational, immature, and beneath him. Jungwon is his member his dongsaeng, the responsible leader he respects deeply. You’re allowed to have friends. He knows this. So he tries to suppress it, pushing the ugly feeling down until it festers quietly inside his chest.Unfortunately, he’s terrible at hiding it from you.

The next day it continues. You mention needing help with some lyrics and Jungwon offers first. You guys spend an hour in the practice room together, heads close over a notebook. Sunghoon walks past the door once, sees you laughing at one of Jungwon’s jokes, and keeps walking without saying anything. Later, when you text him asking if he wants to grab dinner together, his reply is a single “Busy with schedule.” No emoji. No “miss you.” By evening, the members have started noticing.

Jake nudges him during dinner. “you’ve been weirdly quiet. Everything okay?”Sunghoon just shrugs. “Tired.”Heeseung raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. Jay smirks knowingly, like he’s seen this before. Sunoo whispers something to Jungwon that makes the younger boy glance at Sunghoon with a slightly guilty look.You wait until you’re finally alone.The moment the door to his room clicks shut, Sunghoon reaches for you without a word. He pulls you gently but firmly onto his lap, arms wrapping around your waist like a lifeline. His face presses into the curve of your neck, breathing you in. You can feel how tightly he’s holding on.

“You’re clingy today,” you tease softly, running your fingers through his dark hair.“Maybe,” he murmurs against your skin. His voice is low, almost reluctant.“Why?”He stays silent for a long moment, chin resting on your shoulder. You feel him tense, like he’s fighting with himself. Sunghoon has never been good at voicing feelings like this he’d rather skate around them elegantly.“Because…” he finally says, so quietly you almost miss it, “everyone gets your attention before I do lately.”

The honesty catches you completely off guard. You turn in his lap to look at him, but he refuses to meet your eyes, cheeks faintly pink with embarrassment. His ears are red too the telltale sign that Sunghoon is mortified by his own emotions.You cup his face gently, thumbs brushing his cheeks. “Hoon…” “I know it’s stupid,” he continues, voice barely above a whisper. His hands stay locked around your waist, fingers tracing small, anxious circles. “Jungwon’s your best friend. He’s my member ishouldn’t feel like this. But today watching you two together all day, laughing so easily, making plans for next week it felt like I was waiting in line for you again.”

He finally lifts his gaze, those sharp, beautiful eyes softer than usual, filled with quiet vulnerability. “I hate this feeling. I told myself to stop being ridiculous. But then I see how comfortable you are with him and I just withdraw. Because if I say something, it makes me sound pathetic.”You lean in and press a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re not pathetic. You’re human. And honestly? This quiet, pouty version of you is adorable.”Sunghoon groans, hiding his face in your shoulder again. “Don’t call it adorable. I’m trying to be cool about this.”

“You’re failing,” you say with a smile, hugging him tighter. “But I love you for it.”He exhales shakily, the tension in his body slowly melting as he pulls you even closer. His hands slide under your shirt to rest against your lower back, skin warm and grounding. “I just miss you,” he admits. “I miss being the one you run to first. The one who gets all your random thoughts and inside jokes. Lately it feels like Jungwon gets the daylight version of you, and I get whatever’s left at night.”You tilt his chin up and kiss him properly slow and reassuring. Sunghoon kisses back like he’s been starving for it, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.

When you pull away, you rest your forehead against his. “No one could ever replace you, Hoon. Jungwon is my best friend, but you’re my person my favorite person. I’ll make sure you get more of my attention, okay? Starting right now.” A tiny, shy smile finally breaks through his expression. He nods once, still a little embarrassed, and nuzzles back into your neck. For the rest of the night he stays glued to you arms around your waist, legs tangled together, stealing soft kisses every few minutes like he’s making up for all the distance he put between you earlier.

The jealousy doesn’t vanish overnight. Sunghoon still gets quieter whenever he sees you and Jungwon deep in conversation but now he lets you notice. And instead of withdrawing completely, he’ll eventually reach for your hand or pull you into his lap again, murmuring a quiet “I need you for a bit” that makes your heart melt every single time.Because even when he’s jealous, Sunghoon’s love is steady, deep, and impossibly sweet.

◟✿ jungwon ˒

Jungwon likes to think he’s mature, rational and secure in the relationship. As the leader, he’s spent years perfecting the art of staying calm under pressure, keeping his emotions in check for the sake of the group. He would never get jealous over something harmless.At least, that’s what he tells himself.Then Heeseung decides to become your best friend. The worst part is that Jungwon can’t even complain. Heeseung isn’t doing anything wrong. He’s naturally affectionate, ridiculously funny, and incredibly easy to get along with the kind of hyung everyone gravitates toward. Before long, you and Heeseung are constantly together. It starts innocently late night talks after schedules, Heeseung teaching you silly dance moves in the practice room, the two of you bonding over shared playlists and bad dad jokes.

Jungwon laughs it off at first. “It’s good you get along with the members,” he tells you with a dimpled smile, ruffling your hair. Inside, he repeats the mantra He’s my hyung, you’re allowed to have friends this is normal.But the little things start piling up. Inside jokes he doesn’t understand. You’ll say something random like “pineapple on pizza” and Heeseung will burst out laughing, referencing some conversation Jungwon wasn’t part of. Long conversations that stretch for hours sometimes in the dorm living room while Jungwon pretends to focus on his laptop across from you. The way you instinctively glance toward Heeseung whenever something funny happens in a group setting, like your eyes automatically seek him out for that shared spark of amusement.

Jungwon notices everything. He starts keeping a mental scoreboard he hates himself for. Heeseung made you laugh three times today and i only got two. He catches himself staring when Heeseung casually slings an arm around your shoulders during a break, or when the older boy brings you your favorite snack without being asked. Jungwon tells himself it’s fine. He’s secure. He’s the one who gets to kiss you goodnight, the one you curl up with when the day gets too heavy.Until the night it boils over.

The whole group is hanging out in the common room after a long day of filming. You’re sitting on the couch, and Heeseung plops down right beside you. The conversation flows easily, laughter filling the space. At one point, Heeseung leans back and casually drapes his arm over the back of your chair nothing more than friendly comfort, fingers lightly brushing your shoulder as he gestures while telling a story. Jungwon, seated across from you, feels his stomach twist. His jaw tightens the rational part of his brain screams at him to stay quiet, but the words slip out before he can stop them.

“You know you don’t have to sit that close.”The entire room falls silent.Heeseung slowly turns his head toward him, eyebrows raised in surprise. You blink, turning to look at Jungwon with wide eyes. Sunoo’s mouth drops open mid bite of his snack. Jake freezes with his drink halfway to his lips. Jungwon wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole. His ears burn red, and he forces a weak laugh, trying to play it off. “I mean… there’s plenty of space on the couch.”Heeseung’s lips twitch into an amused, knowing smile. “Jealous, Wonie?”

“I’m not—” Jungwon starts, but the denial dies in his throat under everyone’s stares. He stands up abruptly. “Never mind im going to get water.”He escapes to the kitchen, heart pounding. You follow a minute later, concern written all over your face.“Wonnie…” you say softly, reaching for his hand.He sighs, leaning back against the counter and pulling you into a hug. His chin rests on top of your head. “I’m sorry that was stupid. I don’t know why I said that.”

For weeks afterward, the teasing is merciless.Every time Heeseung even stands near you, someone pipes up. “Jungwon, do you need a minute to calm down?” Sunghoon asks with a straight face during dinner one night. Jake starts dramatically draping his arm around random objects while mimicking Heeseung’s voice: “Just being friendly, leader-nim~” Sunoo takes it further by creating a group chat called “Protect Jungwon’s Girl” and spamming it with edited photos of Heeseung with heart emojis.Jungwon endures it with forced smiles and threats to assign extra chores, but inside it stings. He hates how small it makes him feel.

The jealousy builds quietly after that. He becomes extra attentive bringing you coffee exactly how you like it before Heeseung can offer, suggesting couple activities on days off that conveniently exclude the older members, finding excuses to pull you into his lap during movie nights while shooting subtle glances at Heeseung. He still laughs along with the group’s jokes about it, but at night when you’re alone, the mask slips.One evening after another long day, you find him sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor. You climb into his lap without asking, straddling his thighs and cupping his face.

“Talk to me,” you whisper.Jungwon wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in your chest for a long moment. When he finally speaks, his voice is muffled and embarrassed. “I hate this i keep telling myself I’m being immature. Heeseung hyung is…he’s great. He makes you happy, and I should be glad about that. But seeing you two together, laughing at things I don’t get, sharing those easy moments it feels like I’m losing you. Even though I know I’m not.”He pulls back just enough to look at you, his usually confident eyes soft with vulnerability. “I’m supposed to be the mature one the leader. But sometimes I just want to be selfish and keep all your attention for myself.”

You smile gently and kiss his forehead, then the tip of his nose. “You’re not losing me, baby. Heeseung is a good friend to both of us. But you’re my boyfriend my favorite person. The one I want at the end of every day.” Jungwon exhales shakily, his grip tightening as he leans up to kiss you properly slow, deep, and a little desperate, like he’s pouring all the bottled up feelings into it. When you pull away, he rests his forehead against yours. “I’ll try to be better about it,” he murmurs. “But maybe sit a little farther from him next time? For my heart’s sake.”

You laugh softly and nod, threading your fingers through his hair. “Deal and maybe we can make some new inside jokes that are just ours.” His dimples finally appear again as he smiles, the earlier tension melting. From then on, the jealousy doesn’t disappear completely Jungwon still stiffens a little when Heeseung gets too cuddly but he handles it better. He reaches for your hand in public more often, steals you away for quiet moments, and even joins some of the hangouts so he can be part of the laughter instead of watching from the sidelines.

And when the members tease him, he just rolls his eyes with a shy grin, knowing that at the end of the night, you’re the one curled up in his arms, whispering that he’s the only one you need.

◟✿ sunoo ˒

Sunoo’s jealousy is dramatic in the most entertaining way possible. He doesn’t get angry or cold. He gets theatrical like the lead in a tragic kdrama who’s been tragically abandoned in the rain. Complete with sighs, longing stares, and dialogue that belongs on a stage. The moment he realizes you’ve been spending most of your free time with riki lately, the performance begins.It starts with the texts. You wake up to a string of messages from him

“I hope you and your new best friend are happy together ❤️”

You blink sleepily and type back “What are you talking about?”

He replies instantly with a screenshot a detailed timestamp log ( he definitely went through your KakaoTalk chat history ) showing you spent six hours with riki yesterday arcade, late lunch, and then practicing some choreography.“You counted?” you reply, half amused, halfbaffled. “That’s not important.”It absolutely is important to him. He even color-coded the hours in the screenshot.The members think it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever seen.

Jake saves the screenshots and makes them his wallpaper. Jay starts narrating Sunoo’s sighs in a deep movie trailer voice whenever he walks by. “In a world where one girl forgot her boyfriend existed…” Jungwon tries ( and fails ) to hide his laughter behind his hand every time Sunoo launches into another monologue. Even riki—oblivious at first starts playing along, dramatically bowing to you and calling you “Noona, my favorite shopping partner” just to watch Sunoo clutch his chest like he’s been stabbed.

One afternoon you go shopping with riki for new sneakers and a couple of hoodies. The maknae is great company energetic, funny, and always down for whatever chaotic idea you have. You come back to the dorm laughing, bags in hand, only to find Sunoo sprawled dramatically across the entire couch like a Victorian era nobleman who’s just received tragic news. He’s lying on his back, one arm draped over his forehead, eyes closed in mock despair. The tv is playing some sad ballad on low volume for maximum effect.

“There she is,” he says in a mournful, trembling voice. “The woman who forgot I exist. Off gallivanting with the tall, flexible dancer while I waste away here alone unloved.”You roll your eyes, biting back a laugh, and drop your bags before sitting beside him. “Sunoo, you’re so extra.”Immediately, his entire mood flips like a switch. He sits up, wraps himself around your arm like a koala who’s been separated from its tree for years, and nuzzles into your shoulder. His legs even swing over your lap a little.

“Missed me?” you ask, poking his cheek.“No.” A long pause. “Maybe a little.”Another dramatic pause, during which he squeezes your arm tighter. “Okay, a lot terribly and devastatingly.” You laugh and run your fingers through his soft hair. “You know riki is just a friend, right? He’s like a little brother to me.”Sunoo lets out a theatrical sigh and buries his face deeper into your neck. “I know b he gets to see you in daylight hours. Laughing at his dumb jokes trying on clothes together taking pictures. While I’m stuck in vocal lessons or schedules, wondering if you’ve replaced me with someone who can do flips.”

He pulls back just enough to give you the biggest, sparkliest puppy eyes. “Do you still like me more than him? Be honest i can take it probably maybe I’ll cry, but I can take it.”The members, who have been eavesdropping from the kitchen, lose it. Sunghoon wheezes. “you’re hopeless” “Sunoo’s in his tragic heroine era again,” Heeseung calls out. Sunoo doesn’t even care. He just flips them off lazily and pulls you closer, practically climbing into your lap now. “Ignore them. They don’t understand the pain of being second to a maknae with endless energy.”

For the rest of the evening, he’s glued to you. He insists on sitting in your lap during game night ( much to everyone’s fake groans ), feeds you snacks by hand, and keeps up a running commentary of dramatic sighs every time riki says something funny.Later that night, when you’re alone in his room, the theatrics soften into something more genuine. Sunoo lies with his head on your chest, arms wrapped tightly around your waist as if you might vanish.

“I know I’m being ridiculous,” he admits quietly, voice losing the dramatic flair. “Riki’s cool he’s fun and you two have that chaotic bestie energy. But I miss being your favorite person the one you text first when something happens the one you want to spend all your free time with.” You tilt his chin up and kiss him softly. “You are my favorite person, Sunoo always. Riki is fun for a day out, but you’re the one I want to come home to. The one who makes me laugh the hardest and feel the safest.”His cheeks flush pink, but a bright, genuine smile finally breaks through the dramatics. “Good because I was prepared to write a whole musical about this heartbreak.”

You snort. “Please don’t.” “Too late Act One is already titled ‘The Boyfriend Who Was Replaced by Skate Shoes.’” He giggles at his own joke and cuddles impossibly closer, legs tangled with yours. The jealousy doesn’t disappear overnight he still sends the occasional overly dramatic text when you’re out with riki but it becomes part of your dynamic. A silly, adorable ritual. And every time he gets like that, you know exactly how to fix it sit down beside him, let him koala-cling to you, and remind him ( with words and kisses ) that no one could ever take his place. Because dramatic or not, Sunoo’s love is bright, warm, and impossible not to adore.

◟✿ riki ˒

Riki would rather die than openly admit he’s jealous. He’s the maknae, the cool, confident one who teases everyone else mercilessly. Showing vulnerability? Not his style. So instead of saying anything, he becomes weirdly competitive like he’s in a silent, one sided war that only he knows about. The second he notices how much time you’ve been spending with Sunoo lately, the scoreboard in his head starts ticking. Sunoo is easy to like bright, funny, and always down for aesthetic photos, café hopping, or just vibing with music. You two have that effortless best friend chemistry that makes everything look fun. Riki tells himself it’s whatever. He’s busy with dance practice anyway. But the mental tally keeps growing.

How many photos do you have together?How many texts do you exchange in a day?How many times do you casually mention “Sunoo said this” or “Sunoo did that” in conversation?One lazy afternoon, while you’re cuddled up in his room, riki “borrows” your phone to pick a song. He opens the camera roll by accident and freezes. Hundreds of pictures with Sunoo selfies, mirror shots, candid laughs, aesthetic couple style photos ( platonic, but still ), even silly filters. The betrayal is immediate and dramatic in riki’s mind.“Why are there so many?” he asks, voice flat as he scrolls slowly.

You glance over. “Because he steals my phone and takes selfies constantly.” “So you’re saying this isn’t your fault?” Riki narrows his eyes suspiciously, as if you’ve been caught red handed in a crime. “Exactly it’s Sunoo’s fault,” you laugh, trying to grab the phone back. He holds it higher, still scrolling with a deepening frown. “There’s like three hundred of these we don’t even have one fifty.” The competition begins that same day.

Over the next few weeks, riki launches a full scale, completely one sided campaign. Suddenly he’s asking for pictures together every single chance he gets. “Take one with me right now,” he says during breakfast, pulling you into his side and snapping a mirror selfie before you can protest. He insists on recording random dance videos where he teaches you moves ( even though you’re terrible ), then makes you watch them back together. He starts stealing your phone on purpose just to fill the gallery with hundreds of his own selfies riki making funny faces, riki doing aegyo ( reluctantly ), riki kissing your cheek while you’re not looking, riki with his arms wrapped around you from behind captioned “better than Sunoo hyung.”

He even starts keeping count out loud sometimes, though he pretends it’s casual.“We should go to that new arcade again just us. We need more content.”The members notice immediately and find it hilarious. Sunoo, the target of the rivalry, teases him the most. “Riki-yah, are you trying to break my record? That’s cute.”Jake shows everyone the rapidly growing folder titled “Me & Y/N ❤️” that riki created.Jay just smirks “lil bro is in his competitive era.”Even Jungwon joins in “Should we make a group ranking for best photos with Y/N?”

Riki denies everything with a straight face and a shrug. “I just like taking pictures. What’s the big deal?” When you finally corner him about it one night, he’s sprawled across his bed, pretending to scroll through his own ( now massively expanded ) camera roll. You climb onto the bed and straddle his waist, pinning his phone down. “Okay, spill what are you doing?”“Nothing,” he says, too quickly. He tries to look bored, but his ears are turning bright red.

You raise an eyebrow. “Riki you’ve tripled the number of photos we have together in like two weeks. You made a whole new album. You even took that ridiculous one where you’re lifting me up in the practice room.”He avoids your eyes, cheeks flushing darker. “So? I thought it looked cool.”

“Were you competing with Sunoo?” Silence and then “No.” The denial is instant, but the bright red blush spreading across his face and neck gives him away completely. He groans and covers his face with both hands, mumbling through his fingers, “This is so embarrassing don’t look at me.” You laugh softly and pull his hands away, leaning down to kiss his warm cheek. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he protests weakly, but his arms slide around your waist anyway, holding you in place. “I just don’t like that you have more memories with him it feels unfair. I’m supposed to be the one you make the most memories with im your boyfriend.”His voice gets quieter on the last part, a rare moment of honesty slipping through the competitive armor.You smile and rest your forehead against his. “You are, dummy. Sunoo is my friend, but you’re my favorite always.”

Riki exhales, the tension melting as he flips you over so he’s hovering above you. “Good then we’re taking more pictures right now.” He grabs his phone again, but this time he’s smiling soft and a little shy as he pulls you close for a candid kiss on the cheek. From then on, the “competition” becomes less about beating Sunoo and more of an excuse for riki to shower you with extra attention. He still denies being jealous every time someone teases him, but the way he clings to you a little tighter, steals more kisses, and proudly shows off your ever growing photo album says everything.

And honestly? You don’t mind one bit. Because a competitive niki is adorable, and he always makes sure you know you’re his number one.

Your friend group warned you from the start, saying things like “don’t believe him!” but you assured them that you wouldn’t fall for his shtick.

But along the way feelings start to get complicated when time is spent together outside of sex and 3am calls.

Were you foolish to think he would change for you? Yes. But did you foolishly hope that he would change for you? Yes. It sucks but you sacrificed your ego for some annoyingly good dick and a romanticised ideal of a man who could care less for you when he doesn’t want his dick wet.

You’re just like the people you said you’d never be.

Overtime you gave yourself grace because Yeonjun actually seemed to like you. He took you out in public, paid for meals and outings and you even got the occasional post on his story. Your friend became weary but foolishly thought maybe he had changed, until you were at an acquaintances party and spotted him with his tongue down another girls throat.

An annoyingly, pretty girl who has done absolutely nothing wrong.

“Dude. Are you okay?” James places a hand on your shoulder when you catch the stomach churning sight. It feels like time itself is paused as you watch the way his hands naturally trace her curves and pull her in at the waist. It makes you sick because you can feel the way you can feel the exact same hands like a ghost trail over your own curves. The same act would make butterflies erupt in your lower abdomen but now it causes an angry flush to rush throughout your body.

The thumping bass of the music that would usually make you sway makes the knot in your stomach feel tighter.

In fact, you’re surprised. When you think of yourself in a situation like this you imagine the devastation — the tears that threaten to fall down your face like a broken faucet. But you don’t feel like that. You feel the jealous, green monster battling horribly with the angry demon who makes you want to lurch across the room and drag the man by his stupidly handsome styled hair and punch that cocky, stomach churning smirk from his sculpted face.

Which is why it’s no surprise that a scowl presents on your face naturally. You try to take a sip of your drink to subdue your anger, hoping the cool liquid quells your burning fury. In the meantime, your other friend Megan steps in front of the scene to cast you out of your icy trance. You blink, eyes darting around her face before trying to focus on the way the dim lights make her glittery eyelids shimmer in such a pretty way.

“I’m sorry, y/n. What an asshole!” She frowns as her hands smooth across your hair. You let out a deep breath you didn’t realise you were holding, taking in the empathetic looks from your friends that makes you feel smaller than what you actually are. You know they feel bad but you can’t help but feel like they’re looking at you with ‘I told you so’ looping inside their minds. You shake off their worries, soothing the crease that presented between your brows.

“I’m fine, you guys. I… It’s not like I expected him to change for me.” But you did, you really did and you kick yourself for it. The two glance at each other before looking back at you with devilish grins plastered across their faces.

It’s the same way they look at each other before they corner you in on one of their stupid plans.

You shoot them a quizzical look, “What are you two plotting…?”

“Shots!”

Megan takes a hold of your wrist and drags you through the crowd to the kitchen. She’s giggling as she does so, tipsy mind finding it funny that people are stumbling out of her way as she stomps through the clustered crowd. James gets through a little more efficiently and uses his long arms to pluck a sealed bottle of vodka from the home owners cabinets.

The kitchen is crowded with people desperate to find a drink. You spot two of Yeonjun’s friends, Beomgyu and Soobin conversing with someone you’re not sure of. You feel a lick of embarrassment when you realise you’re stuck in the same small space as them, but you quell it by complaining to your friends.

“Vodka?” You groan and twist your face up as James pours the first shot. It’s definitely teetering on a double but he shoves the plastic cup at you nonetheless.

The smell reminds you of painful hangovers and the cool feeling of bathroom tiles against your cheek. Bad decisions and drunk actions wrapped together in a pretty, pungent ribbon.

It particularly smells like the time you ended up lying on Megan’s lawn at the ripe age of 17, drunk out of your mind while your friends run around looking for you.

“Drink up!” He cheers as he clinks the bottle against the cup. You yelp as the glass crinkles the plastic and threatens to spill the strong liquid across your clothes. You cannot afford to be reeking of vodka and embarrassment.

Megan looks at you expectingly despite the fact you know she’ll regret this choice too.

“Seriously? I haven’t drank vodka since high school…” You wince at the sight of the liquid. Despite its deceiving appearance you know it’s going to go down anything but smoothly.

“Blah blah blah — stop yapping and drink, bitch!” Megan cheers when you raise the cup to your lips. You hold your breath as it enters your mouth and swallow as soon as it hits the back of your throat. Your eyes clench as the pungent taste still invades your senses despite your best attempt to avoid tasting it, swiftly chasing with your own mixed drink.

They cheer, laughing at the way you fold in on yourself. You’ll never get over the taste or the memories that come with that specific liqueur.

“Holy shit.” You wheeze, opening your eyes to witness them taking a joint shot. Their faces make you feel a bit better about your reaction. James shakes the bottle at you but you push it away with a shake of your head — “You’re a fuckin’ psycho, dude.”

The two laugh, bickering as Jame’s pours a heavier mix into Megan’s drink. You take the chance to glance around the room before your eyes land on the alternative friend of Yeonjun, Beomgyu.

Despite his cold appearance he smiles brightly at you. You smile back and pray he knows nothing about your humiliating existence. You watch as he excuses himself to his friends before pushing though the crows to make his way to you.

“Is that Beomgyu?” Megan asks as she peers over your shoulder. You whip around, “Be cool. Oh my God.” You hush her. James snickers before busying himself with raiding what else is in the cupboards.

Megan makes a meek noise before ducking back, thwacking your shoulder so you face the oncoming man.

This is exactly what you need after seeing your situationship stick his tongue down a random girls throat. At a part he knew you’d be at.

“Hey! Nice to see you.” Beomgyu greets, extending his arm as an opening for a casual side hug. You reciprocate despite feeling a bit awkward, greeting him as warmly as you can without giving away the fact that: 1.) you feel incredibly awkward and 2.) the horrible taste in your mouth is still battling with your gag reflex.

“What’s up?” You hum expectantly as Beomgyu doesn’t really speak to you outside of close encounters. He stills, probably feeling caught before a sheepish smile curls onto his pale, plump lips. He looks around before bending his neck a little.

The sudden awkwardness surrounding Beomgyu makes you think he’s going to mention Yeonjun and his lack of ability to think about other’s feelings.

“I just uh… wanted to ask if you had seen Yeonjun yet.” He asks softly, implications dancing lightly around his question. You press your lips together, eyes falling to the floor before you gather yourself together. You glance at Megan who retreats and takes herself away from the conversation.

You clear your throat to rid it of the rising tension threatening to make your voice waver, “Um, yeah. Don’t worry.” You try to laugh but it comes off strained. Beomgyu smiles kindly but his eyes swirl with empathy.

You hate it.

“Listen, Beomgyu. I’m fine and me and Yeonjun were never serious. You don’t need to like… damage control.” Beomgyu laughs a little at your last words. He shrugs, “It seems you read right through me.”

You smile but like Beomgyu, it doesn’t reach your eyes. Music spliced between the silence that’s blanketed your strange interaction before Beomgyu motions at your cup with his own bottle - “So, uh, whatcha drinking?”

You shrug, “Cheap rum and off brand coke?”

Beomgyu snickers a little but it’s real this time. Suddenly the air between you both doesn’t feel as rehearsed once he motions at your cup once more,

“Wanna grab another round?”

Choi Beomgyu is a damn good kisser. It didn’t take long for the drinks to start making your mind feel hazy and intentions less thought-through. The bass of the music and sway of the crowd only served to push you and Beomgyu closer until you were both wrapped up in each other.

Megan and James disappeared once you and Beomgyu got handsy. It’s hard not to when one of the most attractive men you’ve laid eyes on is practically begging to kiss you, so why would you deny that urge? Especially when it feels like he’s snatching your soul away with each needy prod of his tongue and cheeky nip of his teeth.

“Shit, what the fuck? Yeonjun’s stupid as fuck.” Beomgyu pants as he clicks his belt buckle back into place. You puff, overheated and sweating from the vigorous quickie that Beomgyu managed to pull out of you.

You were never the type to fuck at a party - especially in a random bathroom where the door doesn’t lock properly but you couldn’t deny the urge when Beomgyu’s fingers started to wander below your skirts hem.

And when you’re running on rage and alcohol.

The cool mirror from the vanity gives your sweaty, heated skin some relief. You watch as Beomgyu fumbles with his trousers, tugging his belt to ensure it’s sitting the way it was before he entered the small room with you. Locks of his dark hair stick to his forehead as beads of sweat roll down his temples, giving him that dangerously attractive flushed look.

He looks back at you after fixing himself.

“Shit, I’m gonna get hard again if you keep looking at me like that.” He mumbles as he steps between your parted legs once more. You laugh, faltering into a mewl as his fingers curl around the back of your neck and peel you from the counter so you can meet his bitten lips in another sloppy kiss. You have no energy to battle his tongue and you let him greedily lick and nip at your lips.

“Who knew you were..” You pause to pant between each kiss, “Hiding… all that.” Your lips curl into a sly smirk as you crotch bumps against his own. Beomgyu is surprisingly packing and God does he know how to use it. He shudders when your legs lock lightly around his thighs.

“If you weren’t fucking around with that dick I would’ve showed you a long time ago.” He replies as he lands one last hasty kiss against your plump lips. His hands slide to hold your waist to help you hop down from the counter he previously placed you on before fucking you like a dog in heat.

“If I knew you could fuck like that I wouldn’t have fucked Yeonjun.” The reply is low - dirty even, but Beomgyu seems to get an ego boost from it despite that fact you emasculated his friend.

Men.

As you’re adjusting your outfit and attempting to ignore the way Beomgyu’s hands linger on your waist, a sudden slurry of hurried knocks bang against the bathroom door. It makes you both jump, falling into each other’s personal spaces until you’re pressed against Beomgyu’s chest and his hand are pressing into your lower back to move you away from the door.

“Anyone in here!?” A muffled voice calls from behind the door, music seeping between the crack of the bottom of the door. Beomgyu clears his throat awkwardly as his fingers thrum against your lower back absentmindedly. You both glance at each other before realising you’re going to have to do the good old walk of shame.

For a split second you imagine the person behind the door being Yeonjun and the thought makes your stomach churn in an uncertain way. Beomgyu’s hand slips from your waist as he slowly turns the doorknob.

“Uh, yea sorr — Yeonjun?” Beomgyu stills as he cracks the door open. He’s broad enough that you can’t see past him but the mention of the man who you just washed away from your memory makes your feet plant into the ground.

Yeonjun laughs, “You dog, Gyu. Finally got some?” He coos as he takes in Beomgyu’s disheveled, flustered face. He mutters something but you don’t hear it as you’re busy calculating your response.

“Who’s the unlucky person?” Yeonjun snickers as Beomgyu steps away, leaving Yeonjun to let his eyes fall on your flushed frame. Your face falls into something stoic, unreadable as Yeonjun’s hand slips from the waist of the girl he was practically eating earlier. You clear you throat, attempting to look somewhat casual as you walk towards the doorway.

“Y/n? The fuck?” He quirks a brow, eyes dancing across your figure. You have the same flushed look as Beomgyu, sweat beaded at your hairline and hair a little more messy than what you usually style it. Your shirt looks crumpled - as if thrown on half-hazardly. It’s a sight he’s became familiar with after so many late night calls.

The look he gives you is incredulous and awfully ironic considering he’s clearly taking a girl he just met into the bathroom to do the same thing you just did with Beomgyu. It lights a petty fire inside you.

“No labels, right?” You muster the courage to meet Yeonjun’s eyes as you slip past the doorway. The girl beside him senses some animosity and silently looks between you both quizzically. Yeonjun doesn’t bother to hide his expression when you take Beomgyu’s hand to return to the crowd.

Yeonjun’s name on your phone shouldn’t be surprising. Really. But for once you know he’s not calling you at 2am for sex.

“Hello?” You call as you fumble with the zip on your boots as your door shuts behind you.

“Don’t ‘hello’ me. You fucked my best friend?” Yeonjun replies swiftly, hushed anger leaking into his words.

You hum, groaning softly as you finally pull the boot off. You hear Yeonjun exhale shakily on the other end, “I would say it was more of a quickie than a fuck but —“

“Stop dancing around it. You fucking fucked Beomgyu? Really? Then you say some corny shit when you walk past me, the fuck?” Yeonjun spews. You don’t bother to hold back your amused laugh to which Yeonjun splutters angrily, “And you’re fucking laughing?”

“What do you want me to say? You have two eyes and we’re not dating — no matter how much you wanted me to think that.” You roll your eyes despite the fact he can’t see you. Your other boot clatters against the other when you tug it off, wobbling slightly as you try to regain your balance.

You exhale when you bump into the body behind you, muttering out a soft sorry.

“When did I ever want to make you think we dated?”

“Maybe when you posted me on your story, or when you bought me gifts — or maybe when you said ‘I can see this working long term’ after you fucked me like I meant something to you? Or do you just slowly fuck everyone while looking into their eyes and telling them they’re beautiful?”

Yeonjun falters on the other side. You hear fabric shuffling and you assume he’s changing out of his clothes the way you are. Or he’s angrily pacing.

“You’re unbelievable. I wouldn’t fuck Megan, you know?”

You snort, “She wouldn’t let you touch her with a ten-foot pole.”

“You know what, whatever this is. It’s over. You fucking homie hopping slut.” Yeonjun pulls away sex like it’s something you’re desperately seeking. You practically bark out a laugh, hands flicking on your light switch as you enter your bedroom. The door closes behind you with a soft click.

“It was over the second I saw you at that party.”

“Fuck you.”

For a second you think he hung up, but a heavy pant ruffles through on his end.

You hum, “You know, Yeonjun. Before you go, I actually have something I need to tell you.”

You can practically hear the way he pauses before bringing his phone back to his ear. He lets out a frustrated hum, urging you to continue.

“You’re calling me a homie hopper but another one of your best friends is sitting in my bed. Beomgyu’s dick was bigger than yours, I wonder if Soobin’s is too?”

“Are you fucking serious? You fucking cunt.”

“Sorry, gotta go! Maybe reconsider who your friends are. Try not to blow up Soobin’s phone while we’re busy, ‘kay?”

Soobin smiles up at you from where he’s seated on your bed. The tipsy man was more than ready to go home with you the second you walked up to him and complimented his handsome face. Unlike Beomgyu, how Yeonjun would feel about this never crossed his stupidly horny mind.

Yeonjun’s’ voice faintly curses you out from your speaker before it clatters against your bed with a sharp dial tone.

At the end of the day, no labels means you can fuck whoever you want. Too bad you want to fuck his best friends.

yeah so this was sitting in my drafts for a hot minute. just cleaned up some paragraphs and i hope it’s readable. thank you to the blog who requested this your message was sweet <3

🏎️ jay's series | previous

a/n:  not me clickbaiting with this chapter title HBHBFRH please don’t come at me !!! i love jungkook !!! i’m literally a jungkook girly !!! btw i’m soooo excited for next week's update so wait for it! also… this week i started side questing some jay angst… would you be interested in that??? lmkkkk.

There was something wrong with you. 

Well, maybe that was too harsh. Let's just say there was something about you that some people sensed and decided to stay away from, while others were drawn to you, like a moth to a flame. That’s what people believed. It was the way the gloss glimmered on your lips, the way you crossed your legs and smiled as if you could read minds. Your boots were too colorful, your shorts were (ironically) too short, and what was kinda the ultimate sin, you weren’t from there. 

A city girl too curious and smart. People pursed their lips at you, just like when something is too big and shiny and therefore, strange. Dangerous. So mothers warned their sons about you when some eyes wandered with too much interest toward you, especially to your kneeling figure in the middle of a sermon. Sometimes you'd ask God if He found everything as ridiculous and bordering on funny as you did, and if it was a sin to think Mrs. Evan's dress was as ugly as you thought.

You understood it a little. You were a woman with a tempting smile in a place that preferred silent and sweeter girls, like the peach pies they baked. Too bad you were allergic to peaches.

It was dumb, really, how you weren’t a bad person but they looked at you like the coming of the Antichrist who wore clothes that accentuated the waist. 

Some of the aunties nearly fainted one time when you interrupted Father Mark to ask a question in the middle of the service. Father Mark, a hunched old man with a perpetually bored expression (you suspected he was more eager to go watch the football match on TV than to be there), seemed to spring back to life when you started arguing with him, and surely somewhere someone clutched their rosary very tightly when Sim Jaeyun joined the conversation too, front row. To take the Father's side, obviously, much to your irritation.

Older women swore they knew your type; how you could be a teenage dream or break a heart and ruin it, making it bitter forever. That's why some were offering a prayer for poor Sim Jaeyun, your boyfriend. The golden boy, the one with the easy smile, the captain who kept spirits high, and whom everyone knew simply as just Jake. People trusted him because it was easy to do. The mayor's good son, the one little children smiled at, the one who held the door when someone came in and stayed a few minutes longer after church chatting like the good sheep he was. 

Which was funny, considering the kind of things he whispered in your ear. 

Jake enjoyed playing the role of the prodigal son, the one all the parents approved of and all the girls swooned over, such a gentleman he was. While you didn't bother to hide the gleam specially designed by some wicked, lecherous demon in your eyes (as Mrs. Keer once said, very worried), Jake kept his hidden. 

He was the first to approach. Contrary to popular belief, you weren't actually a Vatican invention to test the chastity of young men, which meant the urban legend of you being a dangerous mermaid wasn't entirely accurate. Reality was very much simple. While some probably thought you were staying late at the library making out in the hallways, you were actually devouring books. Alone. 

And that's how Jake found you one day, sitting in a corner almost hidden by a bookshelf full of detective and suspense novels read so many times that the pages were folded at the corners and a little yellowed, the dust shimmering in the sunlight. You looked up from your book and found him smiling, his eyes traveling up your legs, to the hem of your skirt and then to the book you were holding. 

You sighed, pausing and lowering your book, feeling a little impatient. ‘’Need something? Or are you just going to look at me?’’

‘’I want to keep looking at you,’’ he responded, easy, almost quiet. Too honest to sound like a joke.

You made a sound, something between a laugh and a scoff. ‘’That line worked on the last cheerleader?’’

Jake tilted his head and smirked a little, not in a cocky way, not trying to irritate you more than you were, just in a way you couldn't understand yet but it said there you are. ‘’Is it working on you?’’ 

And then Jake sat down uninvited on the floor with you, with his knee touching yours and started talking about the book you were reading. And you answered him, and at some point in the conversation, as the sun was going down and the dust was settling, you decided that you liked having him around.

Time seemed to stand still in the back of Jake's car, and you didn't care that it was too cliché to be fucking at the highest point in town surrounded by nature; you wouldn't change a thing. The windows were fogged up, and you were kissing him without any rush, just the same way you were riding him; sliding lazily up and down, softly moaning into each other's mouths. 

Jake's hands roamed your back, your waist, grabbed your ass and squeezed it almost desperately. He helped you move on his cock more faster, and by God, there was nothing hotter than the sight of Jake with his hair disheveled, his broken moans, and his eyes dilated with lust. 

Your necklace with a little J bounced gently between your breasts from the swaying and caught Jake's attention; he lowered his face and scattered kisses and licks along your neck as your cunt squeezed around his length with a gasp.

‘’Good girl,’’ he rasped against your skin, sucking at your throat hard enough to mark. He thrust his pelvis upwards suddenly, pushing his cock even deeper and making you see stars, holding onto his shoulders as you began to ride him faster. ‘’Now ridin’ cock just like a town girl, aren’t you?’’

‘’Fuck— Jake,’’ you moaned, your hand pulling the hair at the nape of his neck to continue kissing him. ‘’I need— more, please,’’ you begged, voice used and raw from sucking his cock before. 

‘’More? This isn't enough for you, sweetheart?’’ He smiled at you, devilishly and too attractive, his hand going down to spank you hard and making you whimper from the burning sensation. His fingers found your clit and he began to massage it in circles, slowly, laughing softly and mockingly when you whimpered. ‘’Need daddy to fuck your needy hole? Ask nicely.’’ 

Your thighs burned, but you didn't care—you were still bouncing on his cock, feeling it so deep inside you it reached the edge of your cervix. You took Jake's jaw and squeezed it lightly, looking at him as you left a slow, wet lick on his mouth. His gaze darkened, and you almost purred with satisfaction, because not even Jake could resist your charm. It drove him wild, just like everything else about you.

‘’Daddy,’’ you whispered like a secret, staring at his eyes while gently digging your nails into his cheeks. ‘’Fuck me harder, I want your cock so deep it hurts,’’ you smiled a little, too cockdrunk to care if you were pushing him too much. Jake grunted and suddenly you were being lifted up and pushed against the car window, your ass being pushed back with a totally needy moan that made Jake curse under his breath. ‘’Put it back in, please, daddy. I want you to stretch my pussy and fill it with your cum.’’ 

Your mocking smile vanished as Jake thrust into you suddenly and completely, burying his cock until his balls slapped against your ass. You moaned, your hands scraping at the fogged-up window, leaving fingerprints as Jake began to fuck you mercilessly, making your body—and the car—bounce with each thrust.

‘’Not so mouthy now, sweetheart? You got what you wanted,’’ he grunted, slapping your ass again. Jake’s thrusts were fast and hard, almost punishing, and you loved it. ‘’Now fucking take it— cum on my cock, make it all creamy and wet.’’

You moaned his name like you were in heat, feeling the pleasure build up until it exploded, making you whimper when your climax hit you. Jake didn’t stop, feeling your pussy milk his cock with a husky moan on his own.

He cradled your tits from behind, squeezing them and playing with your nipples while slowly licking your ear. ‘’Got one more for me, yeah?’’

You nodded, unable to find the words, only moaning and whimpering at his thrusts, his thick cock forcing its way into your soft walls and stretching them to receive its size. Your eyes rolled back and you felt another one rising, your pussy clenching around Jake's cock.

‘’My pretty girl, can’t even talk now?’’ Jake chuckled, his hand going to your throat to straighten you up and press you against his chest, making you take his cock from an angle that made you feel it more deeply. His hand tightened its grip on your throat and you smiled through the haze of pleasure, your hand circling his wrist just to feel him, slowly covering his hand with a muffled moan. ‘’Just taking cock like a whore, letting daddy use your tight cunt, so good for me. Wet my cock again, sweetheart, cum all over me—’’

His other hand found your clit again, playing with the swollen little button until you whimpered and came with a small cry on his cock again. Jake panted against your ear, biting and sucking your neck almost desperately, needing to leave his mark on you. He thrust deep inside you and came with a ragged gasp, clinging to your body as his warm load filled you.

For a moment neither of you said anything, only the silence of the forest broken by the ragged breaths. Jake's hand on your throat gradually relaxed until it became a caress, slowly moving down your chest to your stomach, leaving soothing kisses on your shoulder and fresh marks.

Jake was the first to talk. ‘’You’re okay, sweetheart?’’ He asked and you simply nodded, too good and freshly fucked to string a sentence together. He noticed and chuckled softly, warmly, in that way that made your heart race. 

Much later, when Jake made up a silly excuse for you to sleep at his house and you were both snuggled up on the couch while a black and white movie played on TV, you noticed something in his expression. Jake wasn't someone who hesitated, but he was careful and thoughtful about the best way to approach things. Some might say he was manipulative or even Machiavellian, but to you, Jake was like an open book. That's why you noticed right away. How silent he was, the way he was touching you, how something was taking form behind his eyes; wanting to come out and play.

You knew your boyfriend too much. 

You stroked his cheek, your thumb brushing against his lower lip. ‘’A kiss for you thoughts, Jaeyun?’’

That made him smile, in that soft, familiar, real way, and Jake leaned in, kissing you. He stayed close, his nose brushing against yours. ‘’I’ve been thinking these days,’’ he started, voice low, almost… conspiratorially. And just like that, red flags were raised everywhere in your mind.

‘’Oh, no,’’ you snorted playfully, trying not to smile. 

‘’Okay, that hurt my feelings,’’ Jake said, arching a brow, gently pinching your side and making you laugh and pressing you against him to stop him. ‘’You’re so mean to me, my sweet peach ice tea.’’

‘’Please don’t say those words again,’’ you groaned and chuckled, hiding your face on his neck, ‘’and just tell me what you’ve been thinking of, country boy.’’

Jake propped himself up on one elbow to get a better look at you, the light from the television illuminating his features in a way that was almost unfair because of how handsome he looked even in the dark. He studied your face and you were filled with curiosity, wondering what was going through his mind that made him hesitate so much about how to begin. And then, he just went for it.

‘’You were looking at Heeseung the other day,’’ Jake said, dangerously calm. But what caught your attention most wasn't that; it was that his face showed no coldness or jealousy, simply... interest. Thoughtful. 

You blinked, staring at him a little confused. ‘’Uh? What?’’

‘’The other night, at Jay’s party,’’ Jake continued, slipping his hand under the t-shirt he had lent you to sleep in, placing his hand on the soft skin of your hip. ‘’You were looking at him and the girl he brought. The blonde.’’ 

‘’I…’’ you stopped yourself, because you knew better. You considered denying it and lying, but what was the point? You tilted your head, lifting your fingers to trace the shape of his mouth. ‘’I did. You noticed?’’ 

‘’I notice everything about you,’’ Jake responded, smirking slightly. But he still had more to say. ‘’Why were you looking at him, baby?’’

A silence fell between you, not awkward or heavy, just like two coyotes staring intently at each other, sizing each other up. Jake wanted to see how far he could bend you, and you wanted to get the joke before he laughed. He took your hand and kissed your fingers carefully, softly, his intense gaze still on you while he waited for your answer. You bit your lip, stretching the silence just because you could.

‘’You're setting a trap for me,’’ you accused him, frowning a little. You hesitated for a second. ‘’Why you’re asking?’’ 

Jake looked too entertained for someone who had been caught. ‘’What if I’m just curious?’’

‘’Your brain doesn't work like that,’’ you sighed, too tired to play one of his games that late. ‘’Just say what’s on your mind, Jake. You know it doesn’t scare me.’’

Jake seemed to consider your words for a few seconds, and that dangerous glint reappeared in his eyes, especially when he moved closer to you and his hand continued to wander over your body, distracting you with his touches. He gently settled you on your back, covering you with his body, and you let him. 

‘’I noticed how you were looking at him,’’ Jake said against your ear, slowly lifting your shirt, making you shiver from the change in temperature. When your breasts were bare, your nipples were already hard, and Jake didn't waste a second before covering them with his mouth, making you let out a gasp of surprise. 

‘’Jake!’’ 

‘’How you were watching him kiss that girl, how you stared when Heeseung cornered her and fingered her without anyone noticing,’’ he continued, playing with his tongue around your nipple, sucking softly and then going for the other. ‘’But you did notice, didn't you? You were sitting on my knee while I was chatting with Sunghoon and didn't say anything, sweetheart. You kept the show all to yourself.’’

‘’I— I wasn’t!’’ You tried to deny it, pressing your thighs together. Jake noticed and smiled against your tits, sucking one nipple harder, until it popped out of his mouth. ‘’That’s not—’’

‘’You were getting wet on your boyfriend’s lap seeing his best friend fucking a girl,’’ Jake taunted you, with a mocking glint in his eyes. He clicked his tongue and shook his head lightly, looking down at you with a fake pout. ‘’You’re such a dirty, perverted girl. Now, I want you to answer me honestly, alright?’’ 

Jake knelt on the floor and pulled you down until your ass was on the edge of the sofa and spread your legs with a wolfish grin while you yelped breathlessly. He stared at your bare, glistening pussy with hungry and dark eyes, an expression difficult to decipher but full of desire.

‘’Just like this,’’ he muttered to himself, tilting his face to lick from your ass crack to your clit, holding your bent legs to leave you completely exposed. You gasped at the licks of his tongue, your hand gripping his hair. ‘’That’s how wet you were,’’ he lifted his head and stared at you, while using the tip of his tongue to make slow circles over your clit, his saliva slowly dripping onto your folds from his open mouth. ‘’Do you think Heeseung’s attractive?’’ 

‘’I dont— I don’t know,’’ you moaned when he sucked on your clit, slurping the wetness with a thoughtful hum. Jake slapped your pussy lightly and your back arched with a shaky moan. ‘’Jake! Fuck,’’ you hissed. 

Jake slowly dragged his tongue along your pussy, pushing the tip inside your hole and moving it in circles before thrusting in and out until you whimpered. He pulled away suddenly, licking his lips; his mouth and jaw wet from your juices.

‘’Answer me or I’m stopping,’’ he threatened, voice sharper.  

‘’He’s— he is,’’ you groaned, brushing just enough to make Jake chuckle at you. He went back to your pussy, burying his face there and letting you rub against his nose while he continued licking and sucking up and down, playing with your clit. He gently sucked on it, pressing lightly while his fingers grazed your entrance. ‘’Mmm, Jake, yes, just like that,’’ you sighed, letting out a low moan. 

‘’Would you let him eat your pussy like this?’’ Jake questioned, pushing slowly one finger inside you. You blinked, mind completely blank; but you looked at him and you clenched around his finger. 

‘’Yeah,’’ you whispered, wanting to play back. Jake's eyes darkened and he smiled cruelly, lowering his face again and devouring your pussy like it was his last supper. He added another finger and pushed both in slowly but deeply, each thrust making a wet squelching sound that soaked his fingers. ‘’Oh my God, Jake— mmhg! Feels so good,’’ you moaned. 

‘’Think about him,’’ Jake whispered against one of your thighs, biting lightly. He licked the skin and moved his fingers faster as he let a strand of his spit fall right into your hole, mixing it with the juices that were dripping from your pussy. He continued licking you all over, sucking and playing with your clit in the most sloppiest way, making out with your pussy as if he couldn't get enough. ‘’Heeseung eating this pussy until you scream, fucking you with his fingers,’’ he gasped against your folds, moving his fingers even faster. ‘’You’d like that, don’t you? Heeseung having a taste of this pretty, wet pussy.’’ 

You shook your head but your walls clenched around his fingers and you whimpered, making him smile. The thought grew in your head thanks to Jake, and it was impossible not to think about it, even just a little, because it was true. That night at the party, you'd seen him flirting with a pretty girl all night and then making her cum in a dark corner while the party was in full swing, and you'd been surprised and aroused in equal measure because, who would have thought that the quiet and serious Heeseung could be so daring?

Has anyone else seen him sucking his fingers afterward and then kissing the girl like he wanted to devour her? Jake suspected something was up because you'd dragged him to the nearest room and begged him to fuck you right after?

‘’You’re such liar, sweetheart,’’ Jake licked your puffy folds, making circles on your clit with his tongue lazily, fucking your hole deeper. ‘’You love the idea, I fucking know it. Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the truth out of you.’’

And when Jake set his mind to something, he accomplished it. He fingered you and licked and sucked your clit until you came with a trembling moan and your thighs shook, but it wasn't enough. Tears welled up on your eyelashes from overstimulation, but Jake didn't care, looking at you almost tenderly, smiling mockingly as he fucked your pussy now with three fingers.

‘’Jake,’’ you begged, whimpering and eyes rolling back. He kissed you then, hard and dominating and a mess of tongue and spit and you fucking loved it— you clung to his forearms, your body arching with the overwhelming sensation of pleasure, making you tremble. ‘’I’m gonna cum, d-daddy— it’s too much,’’ you babbled, too sensitive and open, too lost in the pleasure and the sensation of Jake stretching your pussy again to say anything coherent. But that didn't matter because Jake kissed you again, melting into a needy, rough kiss, taking your breath away.

You came with a muffled cry, and Jake didn't stop his fingers even when you squirted, soaking him and the floor. He groaned approvingly against your mouth, swallowing every moan and whimper until you were nothing but a babbling mess. He pulled his fingers out of your cunt and slid them between your mouths, licking them and making you taste them too at the same time.

Your tongue tangled around his long fingers and you sucked with a glazed look, while Jake stared at you with an intense expression, completely fascinated by you.

The next morning was like every morning since Jake had asked you to be his girlfriend so many months ago; calm and lazy, the way time seems to pass in towns where there's no rush. Freshly showered and wearing one of Jake's giant and soft hoodies, you were drinking your hot coffee while Jake watched you leaning against the counter, wearing only sweatpants and nothing else.

He approached you from behind and began to leave kisses along your neck, and you smiled, snuggling up to him and offering him your cup. He took a sip and then used his fingers to gently turn your face towards his, giving you a slow, warm, coffee-tasting good morning kiss in the middle of the kitchen. 

“What would you do,” he asked carefully, “if I told you I think you should flirt with Heeseung?” 

reposts & comments are appreciated o(｀ω´ )o

+ comment to be added to second taglist !!

nai notes : …im sorry for not posting regularly but here’s a part 10! will most definitely post more now ~~ now that schools out of the way updates won’t be around slow. For those who are still actively reading thank you so much. It means a lot especially it’s my first ever smau😽😽 also y/n and sunghoon era cmg ?? jungwon’s lowk a villain LMAOO he knows y/n weaknesses and uses it against her….

playboy shit smau taglist : @jakeycakeys @undeselle @lalipop143 @fan-of-a-lot-things @dina-10s-blog @kookoorokoo @miyeonprincessu @satorus-slut @tinyhrry @hyunjinsslut12 @sunnysidesins @lyzoor @antonxoul @justpassingdontworry @megamatt43 @jazzygirlengene @halheema @b1scuitwxngss @madheeeee @miemiem9 @glizzab3ll @coupsarchive @kociluvsatoru @yashiehehehe @shaiimuraaa @enhapagluuuuu @mandydxndy @won1eluvr @seyeolbae @wonniiz @scarredbytheworld @isa942572 @boundlesselixirflux @xoheedeung @nyfwyeonjun @luv444erin @jayhoonvroom @rikiizzzzz @letwiiparkjay @btsv2110 @jong-caprio @iheartwonnieee @riiseiis @spiderwitcj @sacrificemuraa @yoshidoshida @naviastime @iiunique @dreamyevilcomet @zoe1love (50/50)

INTRODUCING YOU as Y/N L/N; THE INTERNET’S FAVOURITE FOODIE

HOW IT STARTED !

you were starving 

and broke

but mainly starving

so you did what most people would do in these times of crisis

beg the owner of your favourite restaurant for a discount on her homemade ramen and takoyaki

obviously she said no

but little did she know, your mom got you a mug that said ‘the most stubborn girl in the world’

so you begged, quite shamelessly too

almost went on your hands and knees just to get a sip of her homemade miso broth that always warmed you up on a bad day

mrs kim, the owner, was clearly not expecting this so she just looked at you as you were pleading

she looked scared to be honest

after looking around and seeing that taehyun and kai were actively filming this and providing their own commentary she sighed and closed her eyes

she looked at you, looked at your friends, and looked at the sky as if to ask god why she had to be the one who owned your favourite restaurant

“if you can bring over 100 customers to this restaurant… ill let you eat here for free”

your eyes widened, you sprang up thanking her profusely until taehyun came behind you and smacked your back, reprimanding you to fully listen to what the owner is saying

mrs.kim was clearly still questioning the words coming out of her mouth but still she continued, “until then you get a discount”

she put her hand out, which you shook without hesitation

and you got yourself your favourite ramen and takoyaki at a very discounted price that day

it was safe to say you were happy and full and thriving

until the next week came, and you were back in the same position… 

no money, no cooking skills to feed you, and mrs.kim staring at you as if she was about to call a shaman to curse you

you gulped as you looked at your empty bank account

“what was it that mrs.kim said about getting free food?” you asked taehyun

he just snorted at you, “not like your going to do it,”

you laughed along hollowly, before turning to kai

“do you think i should do it?”

kai just responded with wide eyes and a shaky thumbs up

you nodded and accepted your fate

you marched down to the university’s film department, got a camera and microphone and marched back to mrs. kim’s restaurant

you ignored to bewildered look on her face and set up the camera and placed an order

an order for every fucking dish at the restaurant

by dish twelve, taehyun had hit his protein goals for the week

by dish nineteen, kai felt like his jaw was going to fall off

by dish twenty seven, mrs. kim just sighed and wished she could tell your mom what he daughter was doing

it was safe to say that you grew three new stomachs that day along with kai and taehyun who were forced into eating and rating and talking through every dish mrs.kim had to offer

you worked hard to make sure to show all the dishes and to show just how yummy it is

the camera was being passed amongst you three and you were talking, but mainly munching

the things you were talking about felt irrelevant, but mainly covered little opinions you had and small facts about the food you had learned while daydreaming about it in class

you ignored mrs.kim incredulous look as you finished the last gimbap she made and ended the video with you politely saying good bye and hoping that everyone would come and try mrs.kim mouthwatering, jaw-dropping, yummy food.

you even ignored the look of all other patrons when you immediately dropped the smile, tied up your hair and started importing the footage on to your laptop to start editing immediately

kai and taehyun were left to do pr control as they politely bowed to everyone and smiled at anyone who stared at the huge amount of food consumed by three university students

it didnt matter to you, as this video would be uploaded tonight

it had to be

you would endure your ick of seeing yourself on camera and eating noises and you powered through and released a forty five minute video of you and your friends rating all the food this small restaurant had to offer

honestly, you didn’t even notice how mrs.kim didn’t even hand you the bill as you left a quarter to midnight to upload and film an intro video to your new channel : late night bites

you posted at the three thirty in the morning and immediately went to the gym, the heaviness in your stomach making you feel ill

you honestly didn’t think much of the video, not after the two days it took to recover from eating that much

it wasn’t until the next week, when you dragged kai and taehyun to mrs.kim restaurant again for a late night dinner did you realize what you did

you couldn’t be too upset, considering the long ass line that was trailing around the block

you strolled in the restaurant, ignoring the line and went straight to your favourite auntie

“so” … you started saying to mrs.kim, “about that free food?”

“shut up,” was all that mrs.kim said, before seating you and serving you the best miso ramen and takoyaki you ever had, all for free

HOW IT'S GOING !

turns out … attracting over three hundred new customers to a restaurant from a mukbang gets you a lot of attention

to the point where people had somehow found your private instagram and were somehow sending you messages, requesting you to dine and rate their restaurant

you were going to say no, for your loyalty to mrs.kim and the fact that some of these restaurants were charging prices like the food was made of gold

it wasn’t until you actually clicked on the message and saw that they were offering up the whole ass menu for a very discounted price

you shoved the phone into taehyun’s face before dragging him and kai to said very expensive restaurant

it seemed that every weekend a new restaurant would be asking you to do a taste test of your videos

and it was all fun, but you, taehyun and kai could only take so much

it was evident to a lot of people, but especially mrs.kim who watched as you simply poked at your takoyaki

she sighed, pinching her nose as she walked towards your table

“this cant keep happening,” is all she said as she dropped (more like gently placed in an aggressively loving manner) some egg fried rice in front of you

“you need to be more selective with what you say yes too,” she reprimands you before giving kai and taehyun the same treatment

it was then that the ever-so-busy mrs.kim told her husband to start cooking (despite him only knowing how to try his best) and sat down with you and your friends and taught you not only how to say no to yummy food but also how to manage your life

it was decided, with taehyun being your social media manager and kai being there for emotional support that you would post a mukbang every three weeks

giving you one week to recover

one week to eat

and another to recover

to keep engagement up, as taehyun explained it, you would post small vlog during those three weeks

you simply nodded, not minding these people deciding your life for you

meaning that you and kai nodded along as taehyun and mrs.kim recognized that they shared the same soul and the same need to see your life in order

under the shared guidance of taehyun and your (now) campus mom, mrs. kim - you post videos at new restaurants every three weeks, making sure to include your ramblings and reactions to give an honest rating of affordability and taste

after all, no one like a tone deaf person on the internet telling them to eat a cucumber salad worth three hours of minimum wage

slowly your popularity grew

through your buldak mukbangs to showing you crash out over your business major, people started loving you

it also didn’t help that taehyun would post you at the gym, making the girls in your comments ask about him and his ab routine

(you ignored those comments, after all this channel was about you)

but something about you eating and talking to camera like you were besties with the people watching made it so that you were proclaimed the internet’s favourite foodie

to the point where people would come up to on campus and ask for recommendations on what to eat

to which kai, who was politely fed up for waiting for you, suggested you make a blog

you looked at him like he was a genius

honestly, it didn’t matter what people thought about you and your food opinions

as long as you got to eat

INTRODUCING PARK JONGSEONG as JAY; THE INTERNET’S FAVOURITE CHEF

HOW IT STARTED !

jay was definitely not jealous

it’s not like heeseung’s posture was getting better from playing video games all night

unfortunately for jay though, heeseung’s wallet was getting fatter

and the meat prices at the restaurant were getting higher

meaning that jay couldn’t even make a comforting bowl of steak and pasta to make himself feel better

so he watched as heeseung was able to buy a nicer smelling hoodie, get nicer lights, and indulge in better quality ramen while he was stuck with the same everything

maybe it was a rash decision, but after seeing heeseung effortlessly cover his, jake’s, and sunghoon’s combined convenience store bill so easily (without using jake’s employee discount), he became determined

he wanted money, he needed money, he needed to be able to buy that $26 per pound steak comfortably without gawking at the bill as if he just got swindled by a dead cow

meaning he let everyone else go to bed before dashing to the 24/7 grocery store and buying everything needed to cook his favourite shrimp pasta

his mouth was watering as he got the shrimps from the tired man behind the seafood shrimps and tried not to wince at the price of eggs for his fresh pasta dough

he gave out an uncomfortable smile at the cashier as he pointedly avoided any mention or sight of the price he was paying

he walked back down to his apartment, snooping into heeseung’s room, only to gind the computer engineer student passed out ungracefully on his bed after going on a no-sleep marathon for the past week

he grabbed the camera he knew was from the uni’s film department and then shut the door

making sure to put heeseung’s nicer hoodie on the ground as a poor attempt to soundproof his roommate’s room

he sighed as he went through his ingredients, deciding he would meal prep for the week and cook for tonight

he set up the kitchen, making sure to make it as aesthetic as possible as he could in his run down apartment 

he washed all the vegetables, got out his nice chopping board, wiped the counters like three times, and even took out the fancy knives he begged his mom to get him as a housewarming gift

he dressed in his nicer shirt, made sure to roll up his sleeves because according to jake, the ladies love that, and set up the camera to make sure it shows just enough of his arms

he took a deep breath, and started filming, using his phone and two of heeseung’s three cameras to film all the aesthetic angles he could think of that did not show his face

he wasn’t trying to show his eyebags that the price of butter caused him

filming took an absurdly long time, he started around 1:30 in the morning and finished at 7, watching as heeseung stared at his hoodie on the floor and walked out to see ten boxes of shrimp and pasta meal-prepped with jay scrambling with a camera to take pictures of the finished meal

heeseung just shrugged and moved to eat cereal straight from the box

once jay was finally satisfied with the amount of footage he collected, he shamelessly sent it to sunghoon with a nice message … if you don’t edit this like the pinterest worthy video that it can be, there will be no more reaching your protein goals 

it was safe to say that jay was satisfied with the finished and edited video that he received three days later

now jay wasn’t a monster, since his video was mainly asmr, he added all the captions himself and let himself have some fun with how he typed out his thoughts

and there began the channel, the dinner diaries

the video was posted at the crack ass of dawn and garnered around a thousand views in a day

why? jay had no clue, but what he did know was that the man at the seafood counter offered his a discount the next time he saw jay

which jay smiled as he continued shooting and planning his next meal/video

he looked at his bank account and took one more longing look at the steak

soon…

soon he would be able to eat all the steak he wants

HOW IT'S GOING !

jake and sunghoon didn’t dare question the nice meals they were receiving from jay

heeseung didn’t question why their kitchen was slowly becoming more fancy every day

and even heeseung’s girlfriend stopped questioning why they were only eating at heeseung’s home for date nights

it was safe to say that jay had become a machine

he was cooking every other week, filming and obsessing over how each angle of his kung pao chicken was looking

making sure that the satisfying crunch that was supposed to come through in his crispy cauliflower bites for his vegetarian viewers were coming through

he was all over the kitchen, making sure that no one even thought about stepping foot in it without his supervision

everything was meticulous

however, since jay was such a perfectionist, he knew that his channel couldn’t just thrive off of recipe asmrs

so he branched out, he went out to restaurants, gave his review and showed how to replicate the components of the dish

he vlogged himself going grocery shopping, and getting his food science degree, and showing the difference between high quality packaging and high quality food

he also only showed his face in his vlogs, as it felt kind of awkward taking the time to set up a camera in public that doesn’t look at his face

so he gained a reputation amongst multiple cooks, whether it were eight year olds wanting to impress their moms who thought of him as a cool older brother, teenagers and younger adults who thought he was helpful and apparently attractive, and even older aunties who cooed in his comments about what a helpful young boy he was

he even started including his friends in his videos, engaging in dumb challenges with heeseung’s twitch channel on who can cook the best without a recipe 

or who can eat the most spicy shrimp, when jay accidentally overmarinated the sea creature

it was fun

jay was having so much fun

but what really sealed the deal on the cake was when a michelin star chef commented under one of his videos saying … woah, reminds me of myself, you got a great future kid !

so jay might have giggled like a school girl at that comment and also might have made like five posts about that comment

sunghoon looked at him in disgust and said something about keeping the nonchalance alive, but was then threatened once more with disappearing protein

however, the internet found themselves agreeing with the random certified chef and started calling jay mr. michelin chef

some even calling chefs to certify jay - which he declined but appreciated nonetheless

but the best perk of being a youtuber was the money

the money that went into bettering his videos

but also the money that went into his grocery bills

and so the next time jay went grocery shopping, he said the most beautiful words the world has ever known

“can i get two pounds of steak please”

and when the meat was finally secured, jay couldn’t even hide the smile that came across his face

at last, he could eat happy

INTRODUCING THE COUPLE; MR AND MRS "FOOD MAKES THE MOOD"

HOW YOU MET

every other week without fail you made sure to eat at mrs.kim’s

and after awhile, even she anticipated you, kai, and taehyun, and always prepared food that not only tasted good but also was good for you and ur unhealthy sodium intake

however this week, it was a little busier than usual

for reasons unbeknownst to you, your first mukbang went viral again, probably because you hit five million subscribers, but still, you don’t think that warranted you having to sit in the cold as you waited to eat at the restaurant you made famous

not only that but the group of boys behind you were so loud that it made you want to throw a pair of disposable chopsticks at them

so you did the mature thing and grumbled and complained to taehyun

grumbled to him about how you just the broth of your favourite miso ramen and how you also wanted to extra chashu in your ramen

“why the fuck do i have to be in the cold, i should be treated like a queen here considering im the one who tasted the menu enough to make it as good as it is”

as you were leaned against taehyun, pouting and grumbling you heard his voice

except taehyun’s voice wasn’t talking to you, but to his friend on the phone like three meters away from you

which made you come to the horrifying realisation that the man that you were leaning on was not kang taehyun

you closed your eyes and let out a gulp as you refused to turn around to face this unknown guy who suddenly lets innocent girls lean on them

“are you a creep?” is all you asked

instead of hearing an old man’s voice, you instead heard a deep warm one coming from the chest you were leaning against as he let out a small laugh, “i wanna say no, but i think even creeps would give that response,”

you couldn’t help but smile at his response, “i guess that’s true,” you said, “i guess what i really wanna ask is if your here for the famous food or the hot lady that made it famous,”

at first you refused to get off this man because of sheer awkwardness, however as he lightly moved himself so you were placed more in the middle than directly on his bone structure you couldn’t find it in yourself to leave the warmth he was providing, “well that depends,” he replied, “while i am here for the food, it would be wrong for me to deny how pretty the girl is that made it worth standing in line for,” there was a pause, “assuming that girl is you”

you hid a giggle as you nodded

“what’s your name?” you found yourself asking

“jay, “ he said

you smiled, "that’s a nice name”

to be honest, jay wanted to go grocery shopping tonight

he was so excited to finally see if the three for the price of one deal was on the cheese section, but instead he was dragged by jake to try a restaurant that went viral for its affordability and yummy food

which is why jay found himself, slightly tipsy due to jake’s insistence that the liquor would keep them warm in the cold night, standing in line 

he was ignoring heeseung, jake, and sunghoon who were busy being a nuisance to all those that dared to breathe near them, with their loud talking and nonsense topics, even jay couldn’t help but roll his eyes at them

but he couldn’t help but pause all his thoughts as a girl leaned on his chest, as if he had known her forever

the girl was pretty, like really pretty

but jay wasn’t really sure if that was the alcohol talking

what he did know, was that his responses were because of the alcohol, because there is no way he would be able to handle talking to such a pretty girl without wanting to shit himself

so he thanked jake’s annoying ass for forcing a sip of whiskey down his throat as he looked down at you and asked for your name

and he couldn’t help how his pupils turned into hearts at how beautiful your name sounded

there was a small pause after that, only disrupted by your decision to get off his chest and to see the man who made you giggle for the first time in awhile.

and you weren’t disappointed in the least

you two smiled at each other with ease, your cheeks pink because of the cold and his because of the whiskey

“so,” jay started, “you eat here a lot?”

you nodded, pride puffing up in your chest, “been here since the beginning,” you said, ignoring the established in 1988 sign that hung above you

jay smiled at your enthusiasm, “what do you like?” 

you started talking about your favourite foods, mainly mrs.kim’s ramen

to which jay responded, “did you know miso ramen is one of the easiest broths to make? it just takes the right paste and aromatics to get it,”

you blinked at him, “have you made it before?”

he shrugged, “i was debating it for a video of mine,” he paused, “i make cooking videos online,” he explained

you swear cupid just shot an arrow into your heart as you stared at him

you continued asking questions, asking about how your favourite meals from certain restaurants were made while jay patiently explained the theoretical technique that went down

You both were so wrapped up in your conversation that you didn’t even notice the line moving forward

neither did you notice kai and taehyun talking to heeseung, jake, and sunghoon about who the other person was with their friend

neither did you notice how mrs.kim made sure the two of you sat separately from your friends

it didn’t matter, especially not to jay who had come to see what methods made the food stand out at mrs.kim

after all, hearing you talk about all your favourite foods so passionately made him want to cook it all for you

THE YUMMIEST COUPLE AWARD GOES TOO

it became increasingly common for you to be at jay’s apartment

it started a week after meeting at mrs.kim’s, he would invite you to try new recipes

meaning that instead of going to restaurants for your once every three week mukbangs, you found yourself at this pretty boy’s house scarfing down his delicious lobster pasta

jake and sunghoon would watch in disgust as jay didn’t even scold you on how sauce was getting on the countertop, simply smiling and giving you another bite while wordlessly wiping the counter

each week, and after a while, each day you would come into his apartment, whether it would be after a mukbang, a long day, or simply just craving jay-sized company and would be met with a mouth-watering aroma that no restaurant could rival

he would start accompanying you in your mukbangs, taking over mrs.kim’s role of making sure your diet was balanced while providing commentary on how each dish was probably made

while you would come grocery shopping with him and tell him what youve been craving so he could base the next video after you

to be honest, your friends had no clue what the two of you were

after a month, taehyun and kai simply accepted jay tagging along with them to film mukbangs, while heeseung simply made room on their shoe rack for you

but if anyone asked them if you and jay were dating, they would just shrug and move on

to be honest, even the two of you weren’t clear if you were dating

instead, you just like being with each other, whether it was studying or late night trips to the convenience store

it wasn’t until you asked jay for his lobster spaghetti (your favourite) after a long day did the question get answered

as you smiled at jay as a thank you for his delicious food and comfort, jay did the bravest thing he’s ever done, even including the time he let jake cut a live lobster, he kissed you

you remember your eyes widening and stiffening, before melting into his natural aroma of garlic butter and bread and kissing him back

it was safe to say that heeseung came in to the apartment only to leave 

not that you cared, with your boyfriend being the best cook in the world

it felt weird having to announce your relationship to people

but you and jay simply agreed to let people come to the conclusion by themselves

while that mainly applied to the internet, it was also fun to see how disgustingly affectionate the two of you could act before everyone would realize

it took mrs.kim less than three minutes, rewarding you with teas that were good for fertility (that made the two of you red and choke) along with a special chocolate cake

your friends ranged from a day (heeseung) to two months (sunghoon and kai)

but the internet was another thing

you started forcing jay to carry a pompompurin plushie with him everywhere, saying that whenever he gets upset at old ladies hogging all the fresh bell peppers, to simply look at the keychain and calm down

and of course, you started bringing a badtz maru plushie with you, as the bird obviously looked like your boyfriend

people noticed, of course they noticed

they noticed the yellow dog that was always in frame during jay’s videos and they noticed the bird plushie that you always held onto when the food got too spicy

but it wasn’t until the next step, of having you start taste testing his food at the end of his videos, or hearing your voice in between asmr clips, did the internet start clocking it

and it didn’t stop there, when people noticed the bentos you ate during your vlogs, internet detectives discovered that those exact bentos were being meal prepped by jay in his last videos

but the two of you treated it so normally that no one dared brought it up

instead letting this relationship happen before their eyes

it went on for a few more years, they watched as jay moved on to a nicer blogger kitchen, and you went to do mukbangs at slightly fancier restaurants 

but all that mattered was that the two of you were fundamentally the same

from jay’s asmr to your commentary about shin ramyun, the internet didn’t dare complain

it wasn’t until the two of you dropped a post with you in a wedding dress and jay in a suit eating ramen at mrs.kim’s restaurant did the internet officially lose their minds

cause you two became the definition of love for all the food lovers out there <3

It’s in the way he’s always just had to be a step ahead of you. Like that time in the fifth grade when your teacher held a mock election for your government lesson, and he’d deliberately ran against you with the sole intention of annoying you. And when he won, he didn’t even do any of the things he’d promised! All he did was pass out whiteboards, and he always made sure to give you the one with the annoying black scribbles on them.

You went through high school like that, with him constantly one upping you in everything you did. He’d even almost beaten you for valedictorian, but you scored two and a half points higher than him on your AP Physics final and the spot was rightfully given to you. 

He didn't even seem mad about it, which made the entire thing even more infuriating. He’d spent years trying to prove he was better than you and didn't even flinch when it all amounted to nothing? What a tool.

University was supposed to be an escape. Not just from the mean high school girls and the boring small town you came from, but from him as well. You’d finally be able to breathe without him constantly hovering, you’d finally be able to relax without the constant worry that he was going to do something to ruin it.

So when you walked into your first day of classes at Decalis University, fully expecting to see no one familiar, you can imagine your absolute horror to see him sitting front and center like he owned the place.

He was already making good conversation with your professor, you could tell by how the older man was talking so admittedly with his hands and smiling like he couldn’t get enough of whatever it was Heeseung was talking about. 

That’s the thing about Heeseung, everyone around you always seems to think he’s this perfect, charming guy. They don’t see what he really is, not like you do. You seem to be the only person he decides to be his actual evil self with. Why he chose you, you aren’t entirely sure. You don’t think you ever will be.

But that was six months ago, and despite the giant Heeseung shaped stain on your university experience, the entire thing has been significantly better than high school. You don’t see him as much for starters, and when you do he seems too busy to actually try and annoy you. Not for a lack of trying though—those first few months were torture.

You’ve got an eight am class today, which means you have an excuse to make a stop at the coffee shop on campus. It’s right next to your dorm which is insanely convenient and definitely bad for your health, but you're a freshman in college. You don’t think you could name a single person who isn’t surviving off of cheap coffee and gas station noodles.

The line is long, which wouldn’t normally be an issue, but you’re running late and your professors decided he'll dock a letter grade for every tardy. You haven’t had to go through that pain yet, and you really don’t want to change that now.

You rock back and forth on your feet uncomfortably, the line seeming to move slower and slower. You almost consider saying fuck it and just going to class, but then you remember that you’re running off of two hours of sleep and decide you’d rather not fall asleep during your lesson.

It takes another ten minutes before you place your order, and then you’re solemnly waiting off to the side and trying to act like your nerves aren’t tangling up in your stomach.

“Long line, huh?”

You tense. You recognize that voice, and when you look up, the face that accompanies it is enough to ruin your entire morning more than it already has been. So much for not bothering you.

Sharp cheekbones, messy dirty blonde hair, big, beautiful shit brown eyes.

Your eyes narrow, lips curling downwards. At this point, you’re starting to believe your body's natural reaction to Lee Heeseung is immediate disdain. “Why are you talking to me?” You ask bluntly. No point in small talk with him, especially when you know he’s just trying to get under your skin by speaking to you.

He laughs, teeth on display as he does. “Are you this hostile with everyone when you first wake up?”

“Only people who annoy me.”

“I just made an observation, why would that annoy you?”

You shoot him a glare, crossing your arms over your chest. He knows exactly what he’s doing–he always has. His innocent act may work on every other person in this university, but not you. You know Heeseung, you know that getting under people's skin is his favorite pastime. You just wish you understood why he loves to do it to you specifically.

“Can you just…not? You know what you’re doing.”

“I promise I don’t.” The smirk threatening to break onto his lips says otherwise.

You take a deep breath and choose not to play into his game anymore. It’s pretty easy actually, because the barista calls out your name and you practically trip over your feet to grab it. You’ve got ten minutes to make it halfway across campus and into your lecture hall before you’re docked an entire letter grade. You’ve made it there with less.

You don’t bother saying goodbye to Heeseung, but you feel his gaze on you as you leave. Your skin prickles from the weight of it, but you don’t have the mental capacity to dwell on that right now. It’s too early for that.

Tonight’s the last game of the football season, which means practically the entire university showed up to the stadium to show their support, if support meant getting drunk off their asses.

You hadn’t planned to go, mostly because sports had never really been your thing, but Yunjin insists you have to come.

“It’ll be fun!” She pleads, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. She grabs your wrist and pulls on it, but you don’t budge from your spot at your desk. You told her that you had a big test to study for and that’s why you couldn’t go. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but you didn’t really need to study, you already knew the material like the back of your hand.

You sigh and pull your arm from her grip, “I can’t do bad on this test, Yunjin. You know what’ll happen if I do.”

“Yes, yes, the big bad Heeseung will score higher than you and your entire life will be ruined. Believe me, I know.” She clicks her tongue and walks behind you so her hands can rest on your shoulders. “But I think Sunghoon would be so sad to see that you didn’t come to support him for his last game.”

You immediately tense, your face going hot and stomach flipping in ways you didn’t know were possible. Even just the mere mention of Park Sunghoon forces a physical reaction out of you. It’s honestly a little embarrassing.

Sunghoon is the kind of boy you read about in romance novels or watch romcoms about. He’s sweet, smart, and the kind of handsome you weren’t aware a person can actually be. And he does it all effortlessly, like being perfect is something he was just born with. It probably was.

It doesn’t help that he’s always going out of his way to talk to you. Study dates, coffee runs after class, texts about nothing in the middle of the night, all things that feel like a relationship but actually aren’t.

Yunjin keeps insisting that you go for it, and you know that it’s probably not going to be as scary as you’re thinking it will be. After all, all it would do is put a title on whatever song and dance it is that the two of you’ve been putting on for the past couple months.

“I doubt he’d notice if I was there or not.” You shrug, doing your best to seem casual and not like the thought of him has hearts forming in your eyes.

Yunjin squeezes your shoulder and spins your chair around so you’re forced to face her. Her red hair is pulled back into a ponytail, her brows furrowed in determination. She looks a little bit like some kind of strange love coach who takes their job way too seriously. “You’re going to this game.” She says firmly.

“I’m not.”

“That’s what you think.”

The stadium is loud, people talking over each other in the hopes their friends will be able to hear them. They don’t, which means people just talk louder. The lights are bright and overwhelming, and you almost feel claustrophobic with how close the seats are to each other, like whoever designed the place did it without any regard for personal space at all.

Yunjin and Jake are on either side of you, both of them way too invested in the game. You are too, but not for the same reasons as them.

Sunghoon got into Decalis on a football scholarship and is the school's best starting quarterback in fifteen years. Even though he has every right to have a big head about it, he’s so humble you don’t think the thoughts ever even crossed his mind. Someone always approaches him about it when you’re out together on campus, and every time without fail his cheeks go bright pink and he gets this bashful smile on his face. It’s one of the reasons you’ve fallen for him as hard as you have, because unlike most guys you’ve interacted with, he doesn’t seem to have much of an ego at all.

It’s a very welcome contrast to Heeseung.

You can see him on the field too, walking behind the players sitting on the bench and getting candid shots of them. Even though you hate admitting it, he’s always been a gifted photographer. His photos were always hanging up in local art shows or featured in your high school yearbooks. Strangely, it’s the only thing he doesn’t brag about, despite it being the only thing he deserves to. 

“Oh, that’s bullshit!” Jake yells, popcorn spilling from his lap as he gestures wildly. “That was our play!”

You give him a side-eye and sink further into your seat. You honestly couldn’t care less about this whole thing; you're just excited to see Sunghoon in his post-game glow as you like to call it. Damp hair, face glowing with a sheen of sweat, his chest still heaving from running up and down the field. The entire thing is admittedly your guilty pleasure.

Yunjin elbows your ribs gently, her chin poking out to the field. You follow her gaze and find Sunghoon with his helmet in hand, drinking out of a green gatorade bottle and laughing at something one of his teammates says. He looks perfect. He is perfect.

And if things go right, he’ll be yours.

By the time the game ends, you’re more than ecstatic to finally get out of your seat and see Sunghoon. Yunjin teases you the entire way down, but you barely notice her. Not when your heart is nearly fluttering out of your chest.

But when you get down there, it’s not Sunghoon you see. No, it’s something much worse.

Heeseung.

He doesn’t notice you at first, and you almost think you’ll be able to sneak around him, but then Jake decides it’s a good idea to open his big mouth and alert the enemy to your presence.

“Heeseung!” He calls, raising his hand in a wave. “What’s good, man?”

Heeseung looks up then, sharp eyes falling onto Jake, and slowly trailing over to you. He grins, all teeth and something akin to mischief, and casually makes his way over to your small group.

“Hey Jake,” he greets, jutting his chin out swiftly. “Yunjin.”

Yunjin returns the greeting politely. “Heeseung.”

She has no reason to be mean to him, but as your closest friend, she understands that she must, by international girl-code law, dislike anyone you dislike, which includes him.

He turns to you then, and you swear you see something flash in his eyes. He keeps the same smile on his face despite the way you glare at him. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi.” You respond shortly. You don’t know why he even bothers trying to be nice to you in public, especially when he knows you're not going to return whatever sentiment it is he has.

He smirks like you’ve just said the funniest thing in the world. “Would it hurt you to be nicer?”

“Yes,” you respond easily. “It would, actually.”

He frowns and grabs at his shirt dramatically, right over where his heart is. “Always so mean.”

“You’ll live.”

He chuckles, reaching out and roughing up your hair. You smack his hands away and rush to fix it, palms smoothing down the parts he frizzed up. “Don’t do that!”

He ignores you and turns to talk to Jake about the game, and you can hear them say something about how the referees almost cost the team that last quarter, but you aren’t paying attention to that anymore.

Because behind Heeseung you can see a familiar head of damp black hair, thick eyebrows, and a perfect smile.

“Hey guys,” Sunghoon grins as he approaches. He’s ditched his football uniform and is instead wearing a black long sleeved compression shirt, and you swear your brain short circuits at the sight.

His attention falls to you first, just like it always does, and his smile widens just a fraction. Not enough for it to seem like anything else but a friendly gesture, but it doesn’t stop your heart from fluttering out of control or your cheeks from heating to near impossible levels.

“Hey!” You chirp a bit too loudly, hand shooting up in a wave.

“Nice game tonight, man!” Jake gushes, his hands moving animatedly. “The way you got that goal right at the beginning was insane! I swear, Penn didn't even know what hit them.”

Sunghoon grins and brings a hand up to his neck, the way he always does when somebody praises him, like he still can’t quite process the amount of attention on him. “Thanks, Jake. Seriously.”

“Those refs were awful though,” Yunjin throws in. 

The three of them end up in conversation about the game, all of them spewing out football lingo that you couldn’t be bothered to understand. Heeseung's still here too, just…lingering.

He’s friends with Jake and Sunghoon, yes, but he’s always on the sidelines. He’s been like that since high school. He’s friends with everyone, but he never lets them in. Doesn’t make any attempts to know them outside of a surface level friendship. 

It’s a little sad, honestly. But you stopped questioning the way his brain worked a long time ago. If he wanted to keep to himself, then that was perfectly fine by you. 

You don’t notice her approach, not until she’s sliding into the spot next to Sunghoon like she belongs there. Short black hair, bangs that frame her face like she was born with them, big brown eyes. Kim Chaewon is as beautiful as she is smart, and unbelievably kind. Not to mention she’d made cheer captain as a sophomore, and has kept the title all the way into her junior year.

“Hey, Hoon,” she says, voice sweet like honey. You know it shouldn’t, but something twists low and deep in your chest at the way she looks at him. Like she knows him. Like he belongs to her.

You expect him to greet her like he does everyone else. Always polite, but without the extra tenderness he saves for you. Without the small quirk of his lips or the subtle softening of his eyes, because that had always been yours. Your look.

Instead, when he looks at her, his lips quirk up, his eyes soften, and he snags a hand around her waist like he can’t imagine it being anywhere else.

You think this must be a joke. Not a very funny one, but a joke nonetheless. A tasteless prank. Because there is no way Park Sunghoon—the same Park Sunghoon that calls you in the middle of the night and insists he walk you home from class—has his arm around Kim Chaewon and is giving her the same look he gives you.

Yunjin looks just as shocked as you feel, but she’s never been as good at having a poker face as you. Her jaw drops, eyes going wide as she stares at the pair of them. “Um,” she laughs uncomfortably, “Sunghoon do you mind maybe… informing us as to who this is?”

Yunjin knows who Chaewon is, you know that. She's doing that thing she does where she tries to indirectly ask someone something without coming off as rude. For once, you're thankful for her weird methods.

Sunghoon clears his throat, his eyes flickering to yours for a split second before they return to Chaewon. “Right, uh,” he swallows, and you watch as his fingers flex at his side. A nervous habit. “This is Chaewon. We’ve been…seeing each other.”

You blink, your mind going a million miles a minute as you try to make sense of what he’s saying. The words are coming out of his mouth, and yet they still feel fake. Like a figment of your worst nightmare where the boy you’re in love with tells you he’s seeing someone.

“Seeing each other?” You repeat, voice raising in pitch. 

Chaewon nods, her lips curling up into a shy smile as she places a hand on Sunghoon's chest. “It was a recent development,” she chuckles.

You feel like you’re going to be sick.

Sunghoon smiles at her before removing his arm from her waist so he can gesture at the three of you. “How do you feel about dinner so Chae can get to know you guys? My treat.”

Chae. How long has this been going on for them to already have cute little nicknames for each other?

The thought of sitting at dinner with them sounds like torture. Having to sit there and watch him touch her? Smile at her? You don’t want to sound jealous (you are), but that’s supposed to be you. You’re the one he should be smiling at—you were the one! You can’t wrap your head around how he could suddenly be seeing someone when just last week he was smiling at you like you meant something to him?

Had you imagined it? Convinced yourself there was something there when he was just being friendly? But even Yunjin said he looked at you differently. Was she just feeding into your delusions?

Heeseung's voice pulls you out of your frenzy, and when you look up, he’s looking straight at you like he can read your mind. “Sorry, man,” he says, eyes staying on you for a moment longer before they shift to Sunghoon. “I’ve gotta get these pictures developed before they close the red room.”

Sunghoon waves him off, “don’t worry about it.” He says, “I’ll see you when we get home tonight. What about you guys?”

There’s absolutely no way you’re going to dinner with them. You can’t, like, physically can’t. You think you’ll die if you do.

Instead of saying that, or coming up with some kind of excuse, what comes out is, “I’m free.”

Yunjin's head snaps to you in shock, and then she blurts out a sudden, “same!”

Jake shrugs, “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Great!” Sunghoon grins, “let’s meet at that diner off of fifth? They’re usually open late.”

He walks away after that, hand in hand with Chaewon, and you watch them go while your heart sinks deep into your chest. She’s laughing at something he says, her free hand slapping his arm lightly, and he smiles down at her like she’s the only girl in his universe. The same way you thought he was doing to you.

“Well,” Heeseungs starts, his eyes finding you’d once again, like he can feel the hurt radiating off your body. He probably can. “Since when was that a thing?”

Jake shrugs the way most clueless men do. “No idea.”

The two of them walk away after that, and you’re thankful to be left alone with Yunjin.

“What the fuck?” She says, hands resting on her hips. “That’s gotta be a joke. Or maybe some kind of dare. I don’t fucking know, but there’s no way they’re actually seeing each other! He was literally blowing up your phone two days ago!” She snaps her fingers like she’s made some kind of profound discovery. "It must be some kind of spell. You know, I’ve always thought witches and magic were real–”

“Yunjin,” you interrupt, eyes already glassy and throat closing up with an onslaught of tears. You aren’t going to cry over him–that would be ridiculous, especially since you weren’t even dating, but that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt. If you’re being completely honest, it hurts like hell.

Yunjin notices immediately, and before you can process it, she’s throwing her arms around you and pulling you into her chest in the middle of the field. “I’m sorry, babe,” she sighs, “I really thought he was going to ask you out tonight.”

She’s not the only one. 

You just shrug, doing your best to mask your hurt, even though you know there’s no point when it comes to Yunjin. You’ve only known her for six months, yet she’s the only person who can read you like an open book. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” she mumbles, pulling away from you and placing her hands on your shoulders. “But it will be. Because we’re going to show Sunghoon exactly what he missed out on.”

You snort, rolling your eyes and shrugging her off of you so you can make the trek back to your shared dorm. “What are you talking about?”

She shrugs, “you’ll see.”

You should question her. Should refuse to go anywhere with her until she tells you what her plan is, but you don’t do any of that. You trust Yunjin, and you know that while her methods may be strange, she does everything with good intentions. Besides, you doubt you won’t be able to handle whatever it is she’s cooking up.

The diner off of 5th is the only place that stays open after ten pm and still serves edible food. It’s a campus staple, which means it’s nearly always packed—especially after games. So, you aren’t too surprised that you have to weave through multiple bodies just to find the table Sunghoon had managed to snag for the five of you, and nobody comments when it takes you nearly five minutes just to make it from the front door to your seats.

“I’m starving,” Yunjin groans, her tongue swiping over her lips as she flips through the menu. The both of you know she’s just going to get the same thing she does every time, but she says she finds joy in looking unpredictable.

“Me too,” Sunghoon agrees. 

He looks good. Tired, but good. His hair is falling over his eyes in that dorky kind of way and he’s wearing his glasses—a rare sight. Normally, you’d be the only one doing this much analysis into his look, but when you glance over at Chaewon, she’s staring at him with a dopey grin on her face.

You frown and look down at your menu. You still don’t understand how this could’ve happened. It just didn’t make any sense. When you take out the part where you’re totally in love with Sunghoon, it still makes no sense for him to hide his apparent relationship with Chaewon. Was it a relationship? Are they even dating? Or are they just in that weird space between where you both know it’s going to happen, but they’re still choosing to dance around it?

You’d thought you were there with Sunghoon. You thought it was only a matter of time before he swept you off of your feet and confessed his love for you with some kind of grand, dramatic gesture.

But your life is clearly not a movie, because Park Sunghoon is reaching for Chaewon's hand under the table. His thumb is rubbing small, comforting circles into her skin, and she’s doing a very bad job at hiding her smile.

You shouldn’t have agreed to come.

Jake, for all his strange qualities, has always been observant (except when it comes to possible romantic partners), and he watches the entire exchange with narrowed eyes and bated breath. You’d never talked to him about your relationship with Sunghoon, but he (along with your nemesis) was the guy's roommate, so you assume he must've known that there was something going on between you. Unless you really are just delusional and everything had been entirely friendly.

“So,” Jake starts, wagging his finger towards the couple. “We’re so glad you’re here, Chaewon. Seriously. But I just can’t believe this is the first I’m hearing about…this. I mean, not to sound like a douche or anything, but I live with Sunghoon and he hasn’t brought you up once. He’s talked about–” his eyes find yours for a fleeting moment, before he clears his throat and tries to pretend it never happened. “It’s just kind of unexpected.”

Chaewon giggles, reaching a hand up and swiping her bangs over her forehead. They fall right back into place. “It was a recent development.”

Yunjin snorts, taking a sip from her cup with the kind of casual confidence you wish you had. “Clearly.”

If anybody catches the irritation in her tone, they don’t comment on it. 

“He actually hit me with a football during practice,” Chaewon laughs, bringing her arm up to rest casually behind Sunghoon. You can nearly make out her fingers playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. “It was the total opposite of a meet-cute. But it still worked out anyway, because he invited me to coffee as an apology and things just went from there.”

Coffee? He always takes you to coffee. Did they go to the same place you go to? Did he show her the secret menu that’s not really a secret? Did he joke around with your favorite barista like he does when he’s with you?

Your throat feels tight again, but you suck down a gulp from your drink and try to act like you aren’t on the brink of emotional collapse.

Yunjin smiles, but it looks forced. She taps your thigh once, like she’s warning you, but before you can question it, she’s already opening her mouth. “You know, that’s honestly kind of crazy. Two of my friends are getting into relationships at the same time. You’d think I’d get some of that luck too considering I seem to be the common denominator here, but nope!”

You blink. You love Yunjin, you really do, but outside of you the only other person you saw her consistently speak to is her pet gerbil. And even that was leaning into more of a casual situation lately.

Sunghoon’s eyebrows raise briefly, but he’s quick to lower them. “Really?” He mumbles. You can practically feel the curiosity radiating off of him. He’s always been way too nosy. “Who?”

The next few moments are still a bit of a blur in your mind. You remember feeling like someone had spilled a bucket of cold water on you, but when you ran a hand through your hair, it was completely dry.

Yunjin smiles, and she looks so innocent you almost believe the lie that rolls off of her tongue like honey. You probably would’ve if it didn't have to do with you. “[Y/N], you’ve been seeing someone recently as well, haven’t you?”

You nearly choke, eyes widening into saucers. You splutter for an answer, blinking rapidly as you do. “What? A relationship? I don’t–well, I mean–maybe–?” It’s not until Yunjin sends a swift heel to your shin do you manage to get out a full sentence. “Yes,” you squeak. “I have been…seeing someone. It’s very recent. Very new. Honestly, I’m just as surprised as you are that it happened so quickly.”

The table goes silent for a moment, and you suddenly feel very, very exposed. You know Yunjin knows you’re a terrible liar, she witnessed it firsthand when you tried to lie about eating her leftover cheesecake, and yet she thought making you lie in a group setting would make your skills any better? If anything, it just made them ten times worse!

You’re waiting for the inevitable–for someone to give an uncomfortable laugh before attempting to move the conversation forward. Meanwhile, you’re going to pray to whatever is listening up in the sky for the floor to swallow you whole and for this day to have never happened.

But that doesn’t happen. Instead, the next few moments are probably the most confusing of your life. 

“That’s good, [Y/N],” Sunghoon says, smiling at you the way he does with everyone else. It’s not the smile you’re used to. Not the curl of his lips that would send butterflies fluttering around in your stomach and make your cheeks burst with color. This one is practiced, easy. Entirely wrong. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You pale, parting your lips to give some shitty excuse. Maybe your delivery man? You met when he was dropping off your amazon vibrator and he complimented you on the brand. A very plausible start to any college relationship, and it’d be easy to hide considering he’s not real. 

But before you can tell your made-up story, Yunjin beats you to the punch.

“Oh, you’re going to lose your mind. I know I did when she told me.” She laughs aloud, and when her eyes find yours, you suddenly wish you’d never even gotten out of bed this morning. Maybe finishing the course with a B wouldn’t have been so bad if it meant you got to avoid this terrible fate.

She leans forward on the table, lowering her voice into that soft teasing tilt she’s perfected. “She’s been seeing your other roommate. The one she apparently can’t stand.”

Jake’s eyes widen, his hands slamming on the table so he can lean against them and get a better look at you. He practically screams when he asks, “you’ve been seeing Heeseung?”

You should’ve just taken the dock off of your grade.

“Yunjin, do not come near me right now or I swear to God you’re going to be missing chunks of hair.”

She winces, hands immediately tugging on the red strands. “Anything but the hair! You know it’s my best feature.” She attempts to joke, but you’re having absolutely none of it.

“You realize they live with him, right? What happens when they ask him about his apparent relationship with me?” You snap, slamming the door to your dorm behind you. The walk here had been completely silent—or, at least, it had been from your end. Yunjin spent the entire time trying to act like she hadn’t just lied to all of your friends that you were dating Lee Heeseung. The one person in this world everyone knows you cannot stand.

She flops onto her bed and stretches her arms over her head. “They’re guys! They don’t talk about that kind of stuff. Jake didn’t even know Sunghoon was seeing Chaewon! Which, can we talk about that, actually? I mean, seriously, what the fuck? One second he’s taking you on these cute little dates and the next—”

“Yunjin,” you groan, rubbing the heels of your palm into your eyes. You’re absolutely exhausted, and you aren’t sure how much longer you can talk about Sunghoon without your head wanting to explode. “As much as I’d love to talk about Sanghoon's sparkling love life and my lack of one, I’ve got a nine am tomorrow that I’d rather not have to sleep through because I stayed up all night talking about my nonexistent love life.”

She nods, a small smile on her lips. "No, yeah, of course. But, before you become dead to the world, you’re actually kind of wrong about something.”

“What?”

“Your love life isn’t nonexistent,” she says thoughtfully. “You’re seeing Heeseung, remember?”

You throw the pillow at her so hard you’re surprised it doesn’t mold to her face.

You’ve always enjoyed your nine am literacy analysis lecture. After all, you’re an English major. Literacy analysis is kind of your whole thing.

The only part of the class that is mildly annoying is the fact that you share it with Heeseung. But, surprisingly, he rarely ever bothers you. You aren’t sure if it’s because he’s finally matured and realized it’s stupid to bother you during lecture, or if he’d just gotten bored of the entire thing. Either way, you’d be perfectly fine with whatever the answer was as long as it kept him away from you.

Today though, your nerves are practically fried. Does he know? Did he expose you? You don’t know why he would lie for you, and honestly, you don’t expect him to. He probably laughed out loud before Sunghoon and Jake even asked him about it.

God, you love Yunjin, you really do, but right now you wish she’d stayed home with her gerbil last night. Maybe that way she wouldn’t have been able to open her big mouth.

You don’t look at Heeseung when you enter. You don’t even look in his general direction. You just keep your head down and try to look as normal as possible through the lecture, which is exceptionally difficult when your mind is buzzing with so much nervous energy it could power the entire university.

The usual hour seems to pass by in a blur, and when your professor releases you for dismissal, you’re quick to pack your bags and make a swift exit. You're practically out of breath by the time you make it outside, but you’re relieved you managed to get out without having to make any contact with Heeseung. You aren’t sure you would’ve been able to survive the embarrassment.

You pull the strap of your bag further up your shoulder and pull out your phone, fully ready to call Yunjin and complain to her about the mess she’s gotten you into, but a call of your name forces your head up.

Heeseung makes his way over to you casually, a backwards baseball cap covering up his dirty blonde hair and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He isn’t giving you that usual teasing smile he always wears when he sees you, instead he looks unusually serious. 

You tense, pulse pounding in your ears and alarm bells ringing in your head. You have half the mind to turn and make a run for it, but he reaches you before your feet can move.

“Hi,” he says simply. Casually. Like he’s talking to a friend and asking about the weather.

You hesitate, but return the greeting nonetheless. “...Hi.”

He cracks a smile, but scrunches his nose before it reaches his eyes and his lips fall back down into a straight line. “We need to talk.”

Your blood turns to ice, skin paling before you can stop it. He knows. And if he knows that means he told everyone the truth, and he’s probably already told the entire campus about your stupid lie as well. You’re going to be known as the girl who lied about being in a relationship because she couldn't accept that the boy she likes has a girlfriend, and then you're going to have to transfer somewhere else and start going by a new name. 

God, you are going to kill Yunjin. It’ll be like a final goodbye before you’re forced to move across the country.

You shake your head immediately. “No, uh, we don’t actually. I already know what you’re going to say, so I’ll just start packing my things now. No need for this awkward rejection or whatever–not that I’m being rejected by you. God, I’d rather die before I go out with you. But, Yunjin has a big mouth and I never know how to stop her before she says something stupid, so now my social life is totally dead and–”

You’re rambling so fast it takes a moment for you to register that Heeseung's laughing, and even longer to realize that he’s laughing at you. His shoulders shake from the force of it, and the back of his hand comes up to cover his mouth. If this was anyone else, you might even think he looked cute.

You swallow, unable to help the pout that forms on your lips. “And now you’re laughing at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, taking in a deep breath and trying to find some composure. “It’s just…you’ve always been really good at jumping to conclusions.”

Your brows furrow, mouth parting as you try to process his words. What does he mean you’re good at jumping to conclusions? Why does he always talk like he knows anything about you? You know they shouldn’t, but the words tick you off. “What are you talking about?”

He shrugs, lips curving up into that smile you’ve unfortunately become way too familiar with. The one that screams trouble and always means he’s up to no good. “I have to admit, I was pretty surprised when Jake grilled me for half an hour last night on our apparent relationship–” you visibly wince, but he ignores it and continues– “but, I thought to myself, why on earth would [Y/N] [L/N] tell our friends we were in a relationship? I figured you had to have a reason, so I went along with it.”

Your jaw drops, eyes blinking a mile a minute like maybe that’ll help everything make sense. Newsflash, it doesn’t–if anything it just makes everything feel ten times more confusing. “You what?”

He shrugs, “you have a reason, right? Otherwise, we just became a couple for no reason. Unless that’s what you wanted? Was this whole thing just an elaborate scheme to get with me?” His voice drops an octave, and he takes a step closer, until suddenly he’s in your space and you can smell the fresh linen from his detergent and his cedarwood cologne. “You know, princess, if you wanted to be with me, all you had to do was ask.”

You might be extremely confused right now, but you’ve got enough sense to know that the last thing you want in your life is to be in a real relationship with him. And you definitely don’t want him calling you princess. 

You take a step back, your arms coming up to put space between the two of you. “Ew, no, absolutely not. Like I said, I’d rather die before I dated you.”

He hums, shoving his hands back in his pockets and beginning to walk away. “Okay. I’ll just go tell Jake and Sunghoon that you lied then–”

Your hand shoots out and wraps around his arm before you can stop yourself, and you feel the muscle tense up beneath your fingertips. He stills, his head tilting as he looks back at you.

You swallow, taking your pride down with the saliva. “I’m sorry,” you sigh out, “I just don't know how to go about this without sounding like a total loser.”

His lips curve up and he turns so he’s facing you fully. “You’re going to sound like a loser to me no matter what, so just tell me.”

You glower, your hand dropping back to your side. You try to ignore the warmth lingering in your palm as it balls up at your side. “I’ve had a thing for this guy–”

He nods. “Sunghoon, right?”

Is it really that obvious? You narrow your eyes, “How’d you know? Did he say something about me?”

He shakes his head. “No, but I’ve seen the way you follow each other like lost puppies. I’ve gotta admit, I was surprised when he popped out with Chaewon and not you.”

You don’t know if that makes you feel better or worse. If even Heeseung, the one person you absolutely cannot stand, could see that there was something between you and Sunghoon, then that must mean you aren’t delusional. But, on the other hand, it makes you wonder what made Sunghoon change his mind so quickly.

Were you trying to take things too slow? Did he get bored of the waiting? You thought the dancing around each other was sweet, but maybe he was looking at it differently. Maybe he just got sick of waiting around for you.

Heeseung must notice how your thoughts have wandered, because he waves a hand in front of your face and raises his brows. “You still with me?”

Your eyes snap to him and your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Yeah, sorry, um, as I was saying, I’ve had a thing for him for a while. So, when he took us to dinner with Chaewon last night, Yunjin had this bright idea to say that I was also in a relationship with…you. And the whole thing just kind of spiraled from there.”

He’s silent for a moment, like he’s processing your words. “She said we were dating to make Sunghoon jealous? How does that work?”

You groan and run a hand over your face. “I don’t know! I don’t know what she was thinking! I’ve already yelled at her over it!” You feel your frustration building again, but you take a deep breath and force it down. “It was stupid. And now you’re dragged into this entire mess and I don’t know how I’m going to tell everyone the truth.”

There are a lot of things you dislike about Heeseung. He’s rude in that passive aggressive kind of way, and he only ever does it to you. He always forgets a pen and never gives yours back when you lend one to him. He’s wildly selfish and thinks that the entire world revolves around him. He also always manages to catch you by surprise, and you absolutely loathe surprises.

Today is no exception.

His lips part in thought, and for the first time you can actually see him thinking about what he’s going to say before he says it. Usually, he just blurts out whatever's on his mind and deals with the consequences later.

“What if…” he hesitates for a moment. “What if you didn’t tell them?”

“What?”

He splutters for a moment, a nervous laugh bubbling from his lips. “I just mean, what if we let everyone think we’re dating? Not that we actually date. That would be…awful.”

“Why would we do that, though?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s not like me having a boyfriend is going to change Sunghoon's mind. And what would you even get out of it aside from undeniable blackmail material?”

He shrugs, “actually Sunghoon looked pretty distraught last night. He kept asking me about you and our budding relationship.”

Your heart skips a beat at that. He was asking about you? It shouldn't affect you like it does, especially when he’s got a girlfriend, but the thought of him thinking about you has butterflies flying around your stomach.

Still, it doesn’t explain why Heeseung would want to help you. He’s never gone out of his way to do it before, so you don’t see why he would now. 

“But, what do you get out of this?” You ask, pointing a wary finger at him. “You’ve never been nice enough to actually help me before.”

He scoffs, “first off, that's not true. What about that science project we did Junior year? The one with the ant colony? I partnered up with you after Stella got that weird illness.”

“You mean the ant colony you released into Mrs. Hong's room? She made us deep clean the room every day for, like, two weeks. And Stella had pneumonia.”

“Yeah, but that was after we’d already gotten an A.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

He sighs and pulls out a creme folder from his bag. He taps it once and hands it to you. You accept it questioningly, looking up at him through your lashes with suspicion. “What is this?”

“My portfolio,” he explains. Just as he said, when you open it there's what you think must be hundreds of photos. Some of nature, some of the people on campus, some of just random mundane things. They’re all breathtaking shots, and it's then that you remember he’s here on a full scholarship after winning some national photography contest. It’d been the only thing he talked about for weeks.

You knew he was going to win the moment it was announced.

“Wow,” you mumble, continuing to flip through the photos. “These are amazing.”

He brings a hand up to his neck and scratches at it nervously. “Thanks.”

One picture captures your attention. It’s a candid shot of Sunghoon in class, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, eyebrows tucked in that adorable way they always are when he’s frustrated. The people around him are blurry, and you assume they’re getting their stuff for dismissal.

“The photography committee on campus is holding a competition,” he continues, “$100,000 and your pictures are featured in international art shows. But, in order to enter, I need a muse. Someone I can get consistent pictures of. If we’re “dating”, no one will question why I’m constantly taking pictures of you, and it saves me the hassle of having to ask anyone else.”

You raise a brow. He wants to be in a fake couple so that he can take pictures of you for a contest? It doesn’t feel like a fair trade to you at all. “Why don’t you ask Jake or Sunghoon? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

He gives you a fixed look. “I already did, but they both claimed they were too busy. You’re my last resort before I start asking random people on campus.”

The explanation still feels weird to you, but you aren’t going to fight him anymore on it. Besides, you’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you’re now in a fake relationship with public enemy number one.

“So…what now?” You ask, closing the folder and handing it back to him. He takes it with steady hands, and when his fingers brush yours, there’s a solid five seconds where your breath catches in your throat and you almost forget about everything you dislike about Heeseung.

“Jay Park’s having a party tomorrow night,” he breathes, lips turning up into that awful smile. “Beer. Dancing. Maybe some weed. Sunghoon and Chaewon will definitely be there, which means you and I will also be there.”

Your nose scrunches at the thought. You’d only gone to one party so far, and the entire experience had been so awful you’d sworn them off completely.

“I don’t really do parties,” you mumble.

Heeseung snorts like that’s the understatement of the century. “We won't stay for long. Just long enough for Sunghoon to see us, and then we’ll go.”

You nod, and the air between the two of you suddenly feels heavy. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and your eyes fall to the floor. “Thank you,” you say sincerely. “For helping me.”

He doesn’t smirk. Doesn’t tease. Just nods casually like fake dating people is something he does daily. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, princess.”

You really need to tell him to stop calling you that.

When you tell Yunjin, she doesn’t even try to act surprised. “I knew it would work out,” she says confidently, staring at a pimple in her reflection. “That's why I said it in the first place.”

You roll your eyes, fingers moving over your keyboard rapidly. You need to finish up your analysis paper before the deadline next week, but every time you sit down to write your brain wanders to dirty blonde hair and that annoyingly perfect smile.

“Whatever.” You mumble, “he’s expecting me to go to some party with him tomorrow night, but I don’t know. I really need to finish this paper, and the last time we went to a party I got so drunk I collided with the wall.”

Yunjin snorts at the memory, and then she’s standing and making her way over to you. She sits crisscrossed on your bed and ever-so-gently forces your laptop closed. You don’t argue with her, it’s not like you were getting anything done anyway.

“So, your fake boyfriend–who by the way, is super hot–is asking you to go to a party with him, and you don’t want to because you’d rather stay at home and analyze Edgar Allen Poe?” She asks, drawing out the sentence so you feel completely and utterly stupid.

“It’s not Edgar Allen Poe,” you mutter, “and, I don’t know, this entire thing just feels so insane! Like, what am I hoping happens? Sunghoon realizes he’s actually in love with me and breaks up with Chaewon?”

“Exactly that, yes.” Yunjin nods, like it’s obvious.

You shoot her a glare. “That’s not fair to either of them. If they’re happy, why should I try to ruin that?”

Yunjin sighs, her hands reaching out to grab yours. She brings them into her lap and squeezes them comfortingly. “If they’re happy, then you being in a relationship with Heeseung isn’t going to matter. But you said he asked about you, right? That means he still cares at least a little bit, and if that’s the case, then it’s not fair to Chaewon for him to stay with her.” She smiles softly, her shoulders bobbing as she shrugs them. “I don’t know what he’s doing right now, but I know that there was something going on between the two of you. And if you care about him, you shouldn’t let that go without a fight.”

When she wanted to, Yunjin could give some seriously killer advice. Your lips curve up, chest feeling lighter and mind not so hazy. “Thanks, Yunjin. Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Die, probably.”

You laugh loudly, throwing your head back with it. “Yeah,” you agree, “probably.”

The next night, your nerves are absolutely shot. Heeseung texted you that he’d pick you and Yunjin up from your dorm at seven, which meant you’d spent the entire day stressed out of your mind.

Sunghoon was going to be there, that much was obvious, but the thought of parading yourself around with Heeseung in front of him makes you feel sick. For one, he knows you. He’s always been able to see right through you, and you have half the mind to think he’ll make your little lie before you even step through the door.

You suck in a breath, your hands smoothing out the sides of your skirt. The dress Yunjin lent you is a lot shorter than anything you’re used to wearing, and the black cloth hugs your curves in a way you’re not entirely used to seeing on yourself. Your heels force your back to arch, highlighting the curve of your spine and the plump of your ass.

You give yourself a once-over in the mirror, hands coming down to tug the fabric further down your thighs. “Are you sure this isn’t too much?” You ask.

Yunjin clicks her tongue, and you can see her fighting with the straps of her own dress through the mirror. “Absolutely not. You look amazing. The guys are going to lose their minds when they see you in that.”

You raise a brow and turn around to face her. “Guys? Like, plural?”

“Well, yeah,” she shrugs, “Sunghoon and Heeseung.”

Sunghoon, yes. You’d love for him to notice you. But Heeseung? Absolutely not. You could seriously care less about what he thinks about you. He was there when you didn’t understand how to get rid of your acne and when makeup was more of a suggestion then something you actually did everyday.

“Ew, no,” you gag, “I don’t care what Lee Heeseung thinks about me. The only reason he’s even helping me is for his portfolio or whatever. He’s not doing it out of the kindness of his heart.”

Yunjin hums, smoothing out her dress and giving herself one final look over in the vanity mirror. She looks amazing–she always does. You aren’t jealous of Yunjin, but sometimes you wonder what it’d be like to have her confidence. “You seriously think he’s doing this just for his portfolio?”

“Um, yeah. That’s what he said.”

She walks over to you then, her chin resting on your shoulder. “I think–and don’t go nuclear on me for this–but I think he likes you. Like, like-likes you.”

A laugh bursts from your chest. That is the single most absurd thing you’ve ever heard in your life. Heeseung can barely stand being in the same room as you without having to get under your skin. He doesn’t like you, he just enjoys pissing you off. 

“You’re funny,” you snort, “and so insanely wrong.”

She shrugs and takes a step back from you. “I don’t know, [Y/N]. I don’t know many guys who get into fake relationships with people they dislike just so they can finish their portfolio.”

Your phone buzzes from your bed, and when you pick it up you’ve got a text message from Heeseung saying he’s here. 

“You don’t know many guys in general, Yunjin.” You retort. You quickly grab your purse and stuff your phone inside. “He’s here. Don’t say anything weird in the car, please. I think you’ve embarrassed me enough in the last two days to last a lifetime.”

“No promises,” she winks.

Heeseung's car isn’t super nice. It’s pretty typical for any college student, actually. There’s a scratch on the passenger side door and a dent on the hood, and it looks like it could definitely use a round through the car wash. But, despite that, the sight of it makes you nostalgic.

You remember when he pulled into your first day of Junior year with this thing. He bragged about it to anyone who would listen. He’d saved up the entire summer to buy it, and he treated the run down thing like it was his pride and joy. You wonder if that’s still the case today.

He’s leaning against your door when you step outside. Dirty blonde hair, backwards baseball cap, that same fucking smile. The sight alone is enough to irritate you.

But there’s a brief moment where the smile falters. His eyes trail over you, all the way from your heels to your eyes, and you swear you see his ears go the lightest shade of pink.

You raise a brow, but before you can comment on it the smile is back and he’s acting like nothing happened. “Nice dress,” he clicks his tongue, “I didn’t think you owned anything that didn’t look like it came from a librarian's closet.”

You hate him. You hate him so much it hurts your soul. It envelops your being like an ugly monster.

You want to tell him that, but you don’t, because at the end of the day he’s helping you for whatever reason, and your mother told you that hating people was inherently wrong. So, you swallow down your annoyance and make your way to his car. “Can we try and go one night without you being a dick?”

“I don’t know,” he smirks, “you’re the one dating this dick, princess.”

You frown and try not to think about the double meaning behind his words. “Fake dating,” you correct.

“Right. Fake dating.”

The tension between you is thick, and not in the way you’re used to. Instead, this feels like some sort of gravitational pull towards him. Something you’d kept buried that is trying to dig its way back from the grave.

Yunjin groans behind you. You’d nearly forgotten she was here. “God, can you guys just fuck already and get it over with? Your sexual tension is starting to make me jealous.”

“Yunjin!” You practically screech. Your hands gesture wildly as you attempt to defend yourself. “This is not–there is no sexual tension! That’s not what this is!”

She gives you a look that says: don’t make me call bullshit.

You sigh and run a hand over your eyes. “Just get in the car.”

The party is just outside of campus, in Jay Park's two-story home that he mysteriously pays for by himself. (Everyone knows he’s a trust fund baby.) There’s some stragglers outside, all holding red solo cups and trying to act drunker than they really are. You’ve never understood the appeal for parties. To you, they just look like sweat fests that people gaslight themselves into thinking are fun.

Yunjin gets out of the car as soon as you pull up and quickly makes her way over to some guy by the front door. You watch as she tries to talk to him, and for once he doesn’t look intimidated by her outgoing nature. It’s kind of cute, actually.

You, on the other hand, feel a bit sick. For one, you don’t know what you’re going to do when you see Sunghoon. Is he even going to care? Probably not. He literally has a fucking girlfriend, and here you are trying to show off for him like that’ll change anything.

“Hey,” Heeseung murmurs from beside you, his eyebrows knitted together in what you think might be concern. “You good?”

You blink. “I don’t know.” It’s the most honest thing you’ve said all night.

He’s silent for a moment, before he’s letting out a breath and turning to you. “You look good, [Y/N]. Really fucking good. Don’t let a dress like that go to waste because you’re in your head.” He emphasizes his point with a gentle tap to your forehead. “Let’s go in there and show Sunghoon exactly what he lost, yeah?”

You feel your cheeks heat at the compliment, but you force the words to the back of your mind to be dwelled on later. Right now, you just need to get out of this car and get through tonight without wanting to explode. And, honestly, you do want to show Sunghoon what he’s missing out on. 

“Okay,” you nod.

He grins. “Okay.” 

Inside, the party is practically buzzing with people. There’s a few people you recognize, but it’s mostly randoms that you didn’t even realize you went to school with. That’s the thing about college; you’re always meeting someone new. Your high school was the complete opposite of that–you knew everyone in your graduating class on a personal level.

Heeseung keeps a hand on your lower back the entire time, and for some reason, you’re grateful for the subtle comfort it gives you. Like it’s a reminder that he’s here and that you aren’t going into this mess alone.

You eventually make your way over to the drinks, and Heeseung grabs a can of alcohol for himself and water for you. You raise a brow as he hands it to you. You hadn’t planned to drink, but him handing you water makes you feel like he’s treating you like some little kid.

“Actually,” you clear your throat, pointing towards the other beer can on top of the ice, “I’ll have that.”

He looks caught off guard for a moment, but then he shrugs and hands the can over to you. You open it with a pop and immediately take a swig. It goes down like tar against your tongue, and your nose scrunches in disgust.

He chuckles, “sure you don’t want the water?”

You really do. “I’m sure.”

Your eyes search the crowd for Sunghoon, and sure enough he’s here. He’s playing beer pong with some of his friends from the football team, and Chaewon is at his side cheering every time he scores. They look perfect for each other, and your heart squeezes painfully at the sight. Your hands shake as you take another gulp of your beer.

Heeseung taps your waist once, before he’s tugging you into his side and pulling you towards the dance floor. Alarm bells ring in your head as you weave through the crowd. You can’t dance, anytime you’ve tried you’ve embarrassed yourself so bad you’ve debated never showing your face in public again.

“Heeseung,” you attempt, “I can’t dance!”

“Neither can anyone else here. Besides, we can’t just sit in the corner and expect Sunghoon to care. If he’s having a good time, you need to be having an even better one.” He says easily.

You scoff as he comes to a stop in the middle of the floor, directly in Sunghoon's line of sight. Heeseung has always been able to make confidence look easy–like it’s something he was born with. You, on the other hand, are not like that. Your movements are awkward and you fumble to find a rhythm that doesn’t make you look like you’re on the verge of collapse.

“Wow,” he laughs, whistling lowly when you nearly trip over your own feet. “You weren’t kidding.”

Your eyes narrow as embarrassment flushes your cheeks. “I told you! God, I’m going back to the drinks–”

Before you can walk away, he catches your wrist with his hand and pulls you back towards him. Your chest nearly collides with his, and his face is suddenly so close you can practically taste his breath on yours.

“I’m not making fun of you, princess.” He murmurs, his hands sliding up to rest on your hips, “just…observing.”

His voice is right beside your ear, and the proximity makes your body feel like it’s on fire. Suddenly, the room is too small and all you can think about is him. Sunghoon is a thought so distant in your mind you nearly forget you’d ever been thinking about him in the first place.

He brings his lips to your ear, his grip on your hips tightening the smallest bit. You wonder if he’s able to hear your heartbeat. If he can, does he know it’s beating so rapidly because of him?

“He’s looking,” he murmurs into your hair.

The call back to reality feels like a bucket of ice water against your spine. If Heeseung notices the way you tense, he doesn’t comment on it.

You clear your throat and try to ignore the way your voice shakes. “He is?”

“He was,” he grumbles with a click of his tongue. He pulls back so you can see his eyes, and for a moment you think he almost looks as wrecked as you feel. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Your eyes widen and you nearly choke on your own spit. “What?”

You barely have time to process before he’s bringing a hand up to cup your cheek, the other sliding to your spine and pulling you impossibly closer. You’re so close your noses are nearly touching, and his cedarwood cologne feels like it’s enveloping all of your senses.

“Trust me, okay?” He murmurs.

Later, you’ll say you don’t know how it happened. You’ll tell Yunjin that it all happened so fast and that it really wasn’t that big of a deal. He was just helping you get Sunghoon's attention.

But the truth–the truth is that you want him to kiss you. You want him to take your breath away and for his hands to hold you like he’s afraid he’ll die without you.

And that scares you.

All you can manage is one simple word. “Okay.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

The kiss is awkward at first, more a peck than anything else, but he slides his hand to the back of your neck and pulls you closer and suddenly his tongue is in your mouth and he’s kissing you like you’re something precious.

Your hands slide to his chest instinctively, fists balling up the fabric of his shirt between your fingers. His breath mingles with yours, and his tongue licks into your mouth like you’re the best thing he’s tasted in years.

You can’t help the whine that slides from his lips when he pulls away, your own lips chasing his without your permission. It’s like your body's an addict and he’s your drug of choice. 

Heeseung's lips are swollen and his pupils are completely blown, but you doubt you look much better. His tongue darts out to swipe at his lower lip, and then he’s smiling at you. But it’s not the teasing smile you’re used to or the one he gives everyone else. It’s softer. Real. 

Your lips part to say something, anything, but then your thoughts go back to Sunghoon and what comes out instead is a soft, “did he see?”

Heeseungs smile immediately drops, and something akin to disappointment flashes over his face. You don’t know why the sight makes you cringe internally. 

He glances up and nods his head. “Yeah,” he says, using his grip on your hips to turn you around, “he definitely saw.”

When you look, Sunghoon’s cheeks are pink and he’s staring directly at you. When he sees you looking, he’s quick to avert his gaze and try to act casually, but you know Sunghoon. He’s jealous.

This is a complete win.

So, why don’t you care as much as you should?

You should be ecstatic that Sunghoon’s feeling a certain way towards you. That’s the whole point of this stupid deal–to get Sunghoon back.

But when you turn back around and look at Heeseung, all you can think about is the way he smiled at you like you meant something to him. And how you hope he does it again.

It’s been a week since the kiss. A full week of acting like a couple. Holding hands on campus, cheek kisses in class, coffee dates at the cafe you used to frequent with Sunghoon. 

It’s…weird. Somewhere along the way, you stopped hating Heeseung's general presence. Instead of a nemesis, he’s managed to turn himself into someone you don’t really mind having around. A frenemy, maybe. He’s funny, something you never cared enough to notice before, and he’s got this soft side to him that makes your heart melt the smallest bit.

“So,” Yunjin grins, taking a bite of her ramen. “Any word from Sunghoon?”

Your mouth goes dry at the mention of your apparent crush. In truth, you hadn't really thought about him at all. You used to go to sleep imagining it was Sunghoon next to you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and holding you like you were something fragile.

Now when you close your eyes at night, all you can think about is the way Heeseung's mouth felt against yours. The way his hands gripped your hips and held you close to him.

It takes everything in you to remember that Sunghoon is the goal. You’re just feeling this way because Heeseung kissed you. Once you have Sunghoon, you’ll get over it completely.

“Um,” you mumble, sinking further into your blankets, “not yet. But Heeseung said he saw him looking at us in the coffee shop the other day. That’s good, right?”

She turns to you, her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. “It is. So why don’t you sound more excited?”

You immediately go on the defensive. “I am excited! I’m just…tired right now. It’s late, and I’ve been up since seven.”

“Whatever you say.”

In truth, you aren’t that excited. It’s nice that he’s thinking about you. It’s the entire reason you and Heeseung are doing this anyway. So why can you not bring yourself to care more?

Your phone buzzes next to you, and you have to dig through your sheets to find it. When you do, the screen is lit up with a message from Heeseung.

Hey, it reads, got time to take some photos tomorrow? There’s this park just a little off campus that I think would be a good spot.

Right. The portfolio. You’d been so busy with yourself you nearly forgot you were supposed to be helping him as well.

Sure, you reply, what time?

It doesn’t take long for him to respond. I’ll pick you up at eleven. Wear something nice, please.

You heart the message and set your phone down. You aren’t sure what something nice is supposed to entail, but you’ll do your best.

The next morning, you’re waiting outside your dorm in an outfit that you deemed appropriate for the park while also being cute. It isn’t something you usually wear–the long skirt feels restricting and the jean vest is more form-fitting then you thought it would be, but Yunjin swore up and down that you looked great, so you’re choosing to believe her.

You rock back and forth on your feet while you wait, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. Heeseung is never late, but today seems to be an exception to that.

You sigh, ready to turn around and go wait in your dorm, but the sound of your name catches you off guard.

When you look over, Sunghoon is walking over to you. He must’ve been on a run, because his arms are on full display in his sleeveless tank top. Usually, the sight would send your mind reeling. But now you barely even glance towards them.

“Hi, Sunghoon.”

He nods, coming to a stop a few feet in front of you. He’s close enough for you to see the moles on his face, but far enough that you can’t smell his usual expensive cologne. A complete opposite of Heeseungs soft cedarwood and linen.

Why the fuck are you thinking about Heeseungs cologne right now?

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” he says shyly, eyebrows knit together. “I’ve…missed hanging out with you.”

Your heart skips a beat, but for all the wrong reasons.

“Sorry,” you murmur with a shrug. “I’ve just been super busy lately. You know how it gets.” It’s not a lie, you have been busy. Just…busy with Heeseung.

He pauses, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips. He looks like he’s contemplating his next words, which is something you’ve never seen him do. It hurts a bit that your relationship has turned into this. Just a month ago the thought of ignoring Sunghoon would’ve seemed unfathomable. Both of you being in separate relationships (given yours is fake) would’ve been a complete joke. And yet here you are, talking like complete strangers.

“Yeah,” he says eventually, the words quiet and hesitant. “I’ve seen you and Heeseung around campus. I was a little surprised, honestly.”

Your response is dry. Bordering on the edge of annoyance. “Yeah. So was I.”

You both know you’re not talking about Heeseung. For a moment, he almost looks regretful.

“[Y/N]-”

“Hey.” 

You didn’t even notice Heeseung's beat up Honda pull onto your street, nor notice him walk out of it. He’s dressed casually in a Decalis University sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. His camera hangs off his neck and rests against his stomach, and his hand instinctively hovers over it as he approaches.

Relief floods your chest at the sight of him. You don’t know why. It must be some kind of hormonal thing.

Sunghoon takes a step back like he’s trying to put up an invisible wall between you. The two live together, and yet the tension radiating off of them makes you wonder what their living situation must be like right now. Jake must be in a constant state of stress.

“You’re late,” you murmur.

Heeseung smiles, his hand reaching for yours and pulling your wrist to his mouth. He leaves a soft kiss on your inner wrist, and your cheeks flare at the gesture. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles against your skin. “Traffic.”

You fold immediately. “It’s fine. I was just worried.”

Sunghoon must sense that he’s no longer wanted, because he murmurs a soft goodbye and makes a swift exit. You watch as he jogs away, his forming growing smaller and smaller, and it doesn’t hurt like it used to. It just feels like…nothing. You look back to Heeseung, and any tension you had melts.

“What was that about?” He asks.

You shrug. “Was just saying hello.”

“And?”

You raise a brow. “And what?”

“Did he say anything about me? About our relationship?”

Oh. Right. You’re in love with Sunghoon.

“Oh,” you clear your throat and attempt to act like you hadn’t completely forgotten your deal. “Yeah, he did. I think he’s jealous, but he’s still with Chaewon, so does it even really matter?”

“Trust me, it does.” He snorts, leading you over to his car. “He was talking to Jake last night about how he apparently isn’t feeling any sparks with Chaewon. He wants to break up with her.”

That’s good. That’s what you wanted. You should be ecstatic and your heart should be fluttering in your chest. Instead, all you feel is a cold pang of disappointment.

“Good! That's great. Amazing, even.” You say, attempting to sound the littlest bit excited, but it just comes off flat and dull. Like you’re talking about an assignment and not the boy you’ve been in love with for months.

He gives you a side-eye as he opens the passenger door for you, and you slip in like it’s second nature. At this point, it is. “You don’t sound too excited,” he observes.

You’re not, but you can’t say that. “I’m just shocked, I guess. I don’t understand why he even got with Chaewon in the first place if he didn’t feel anything for her. It’s kind of…mean.”

Heeseung takes a second to respond as he climbs into the driver's seat. He wordlessly hands you his phone and lets you put on your playlist–something you hadn’t even realized was an option. You play Ariana Grande and watch as Heeseung tries to act like he doesn’t enjoy it.

“Sunghoons always been like that,” he says eventually. “He’s impulsive. Doesn’t think about what he’s doing until he’s regretting it and trying to act like he’s not.”

“Why?”

Heeseung shrugs, glancing at you from the corner of his eye for a split second before going back to the road. “Don’t know. It’s just how he is.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek and look out the window. The campus passes by in a blur, people walking to class together, pigeons scavenging for any scraps they can get, the lecture hall you walk to every morning. It’s familiar. Comfortable.

You look back to Heeseung, and instead of annoyance, you get the same feeling you do when you’re looking at campus. Familiarity. Comfort. And it scares you so much your throat nearly constricts.

“Well,” you croak, running a hand through your hair, “that’s stupid. And all it does is hurt the people around him.”

“Yeah,” he agrees softly, “it does.”

You don’t talk the rest of the car ride, and you’re thankful for it. Your mind is too alert for conversation right now. You can smell his cologne, can hear him humming along to Needy by Ariana Grande, can feel his presence consuming your very soul. It’s too much. It’s not enough.

You don’t hate Lee Heeseung. Because your mother used to say that hate was just another word for love, and that is the last thing you feel for the boy you grew up with.

When you arrive at the park, you’re entirely too eager to get out of the car. You barely wait for him to park before you’re practically stumbling out of your seat with the ordinance of a baby giraffe. 

Heeseung gives you a look, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Just directs you to where he wants to go with confidence. His hand hovers at your lower back–never touching–just there. Like he’s unsure of what to do with himself when you’re not around your friends and having to keep up your act.

You don’t comment on it.

Eventually, he takes you to a small pond in the middle of the park. There’s white lilies around the water, each of them dancing in the wind while the water flows around them. The sun is bright, shining in your eyes and making you squint slightly. It’s pretty beautiful, actually. You had no idea this place was so close to your campus.

Heeseung directs you on how to pose. How to smile like you have no idea you’re being watched. It’s awkward at first, mostly because the only time you’ve ever had someone take pictures of you like this was during your high school graduation, but it doesn’t take long for the tension to ease into something softer. Easier. 

He tells you to sit on the grass and tilt your head towards the pond–but each shot he gets just doesn’t feel right.

“Maybe lean more towards the left?” He mumbles, hand flying out to gesture at you. You do as he says, but apparently, he’s still not getting the shot he wants. 

He clicks his tongue in frustration, “no–that’s not–just–let me fix you.”

You furrow your brows. What does that even mean? “You don’t need to fix me, Heeseung–”

He interrupts you with a laugh. “Not like that, idiot. God, you’re always so defensive.”

You part your lips to retort, but before the words can get out, he’s walking towards you and your chin is in his hand, and you suddenly forget how to communicate entirely.

He tilts your head where he wants it, the pink of his tongue poking out the tiniest bit. His face is so close that it takes everything in you to not remember how he’d tasted when his tongue was in your mouth.

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you let him do what he needs to.

“There, that’s the angle.”

“You couldn’t have just told me to tilt my chin up?”

He smiles and goes back to his camera. “I did, princess. You just don’t listen.”

God, he’s so annoying.

But still, your lips curve up and your heart gets that same feeling it did at the party. The one that you’re not quite ready to name.

“Do we really have to go to this brunch?” You groan, flopping down onto your bed. “Sunghoon and Chaewon are going to be there, and I really don’t feel like watching them be all over each other.”

Yunjin shakes her head, “that’s exactly why we have to go. So that you and Heeseung can do it right back to them.”

“They already saw us kiss! What more do we have to do? Feed each other and do that weird baby talk bullshit couples do?”

Yunjin gags and rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what couples you’re talking to, but please tell them I said to stop doing that immediately. But, no, that’s not what I meant. How is it going to look if everyone's there except for you and Heeseung?”

“Um, fine? No one’s going to care.”

“It’s going to look suspicious. Everyone knows you had a thing for Sunghoon before he popped out with Chaewon. You and Heeseung need to prove to everyone–not just Sunghoon–that you’re actually in love.”

You sigh. You know she’s right, you just hate it. Why do you need to prove your fake relationship to your friends? It feels wrong. It feels like lying.

Actually, it is lying. 

“I hate lying to everyone,” you sigh, hugging your pillow to your chest. “Makes me feel like a bad friend.”

“You’re not a bad friend,” Yunjin reassures, rolling her chair over to you. It gets caught on the rug for a moment, but she’s quick to force the wheels to move again. “Besides, what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

You give her a look. “That’s like, the worst advice you’ve ever given me.”

She chuckles, “sorry I’m not well versed in the art of therapy for fake dating. I’ll make sure to switch my degree to better accommodate you.”

“That would actually be great, thank you.”

She takes in a breath, her hand reaching for yours. “Just…don’t think of it as lying. Think about it like two friends helping each other out.”

“He’s not my friend.” You scoff, but the words don’t hold any bite behind them. Not like they used to, at least.

Yunjin grins knowingly. “Yeah, he is.”

You don’t bother correcting her again.

Brunch is at noon at that diner off of fifth. The same one you’d gone to when this entire mess started. The same one you’d started falling in love with Sunghoon at. It’s weird now, seeing how much your life has changed in the short amount of time since you were last here.

You have a fake boyfriend now. You don’t talk to Sunghoon. Your life feels like it’s falling apart and coming back together all at once.

You and Heeseung sit next to each other wordlessly, both of you more cautious about touching. It feels like there’s enough space between your leg and his to fill out the Grand Canyon. It shouldn’t bother you, but it does.

Sunghoon holds Chaewon's hand under the table, and their shoulders brush every time they move. It’s irritating and annoying and you strangely enough couldn’t care less about it. That sense of jealousy you’d felt the last time you were here no longer spills over your guts like acid, instead you feel nothing.

You try to force yourself to remember what you’d liked about Sunghoon. He’s kind. Smart. Dedicated. Absolutely fucking gorgeous.

But he’s not…

“Honestly,” Jake says between spoonfuls of biscuits and gravy, “when Yunjin told us you guys were seeing each other, I thought she was lying. I mean, you guys couldn’t even be in the same room without having some kind of argument.”

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear nervously, “yeah. I was pretty surprised too.”

You don’t miss the way Heeseung cracks a smile at that. “It was kind of sudden, but I'm glad it happened.” He says easily, “means I finally get to stop pretending I can’t stand her.”

You can tell he hadn’t meant to say that last part, because his eyes go wide and he tenses for a second. Not long enough for anyone to catch it, but you do. You see the way fear flashes behind his irises for a moment, the way his breath catches before filling out his chest once again.

Sunghoons throat bobs as he swallows, dark eyes darting between the two of you slowly. “Pretending?” He asks cautiously, like he’s testing the words on his tongue.

But you don’t care about Sunghoon. All you can think about is what Heeseung said. I finally get to stop pretending I can’t stand her. Is he being honest? Or is this all just a part of your act? You hate that you can’t tell.

“Uh,” he laughs nervously, bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “When we were in school, I didn't know how to get her attention. She was smart and kind and friends with everyone, and I was just…there. She used to do this thing in kindergarten where she’d wait for everyone else to fall asleep during naptime before she did because she didn’t want anyone to have to sit there alone, and I remember thinking she must’ve been sent by some kind of angel.” He laughs then, a genuine one. The kind that lights up his entire face.

You hadn’t even remembered you did that, but it’s true. You did. It always just felt like the right thing to do, but the fact that he remembers it all these years later makes you feel almost dizzy. 

“I think it was in third grade when I figured the best way to get her attention was to piss her off,” he continues. “I don’t know why. But I spent the next ten or more years making sure I annoyed her to the best of my ability. I think I just decided that I’d rather have her hate me than not have her in my life at all.”

The table is silent aside from the people talking around you. They’re all having normal conversations while you're going through the biggest existential crisis of your life. You understand that this is supposed to be fake–but that didn’t feel like something he made up on the spot. It felt like he was finally coming clean about something that’d been sitting on his chest for years. And if that’s true, where does that leave you?

“Heeseung…” You attempt, eyes searching the side of his face. When he turns to you, he looks more sincere than you’ve ever seen him. His hand reaches for yours under the table and he intertwines his fingers with yours. The hold is gentle, soft, right. It feels like you’re exactly where you were always supposed to be.

“Sorry,” he laughs, turning back to the group. “That was kind of sappy.”

“Nah, man, that was beautiful.” Jake murmurs, bringing a hand up to his chest. “I’m happy for you guys, seriously.”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon nods, “you guys are good for each other.” He looks resigned. Like he’s accepting defeat. It makes something click in your brain.

For the first time in your life, you think you’re starting to see Heeseung exactly for who he is.

You don’t notice the way he looks at Sunghoon. Or how he swallows back his pride and comes to terms with what he knows he has to do.

You don't comment when he pulls his hand away from you, you just assume it's because he wants to be able to properly eat his food.

When brunch is over, you say your goodbyes to everyone with a pep in your step. You know that telling Heeseung how you’re feeling might complicate things, but he basically just confessed that he remembered things you did in kindergarten. You don’t remember that kind of stuff unless it means something, right?

“I’ll walk you back to your dorm?” He murmurs next to you, and you nod.

“I’d like that.”

There’s tension in the air as you walk, one that you’re practically dying to address. But Heeseung doesn’t look like he did in the diner. He looks conflicted, scared–he keeps his eyes ahead and his hands shoved into his pockets. Nothing like the bright boy you’d been sitting next to barely an hour ago.

“Are you okay?” You ask, voice soft.

He doesn’t even glance at you. “I’m fine.”

“Then why do you look like a kicked puppy?” You attempt to joke, but he doesn't laugh. Instead, he pauses on the sidewalk, and you barely get a few feet in front of him when you notice he’s stopped.

“What’s going on, Heeseung?” You attempt again, reaching for his hand. He pulls it back so sharply you nearly flinch.

“I think…I think we need to stop.” He says finally.

Your heart drops. “What? Why? Did I–Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?"

“No, no, it’s not–” He runs a shaky hand through his hair, “fuck, it’s not you.”

You raise a brow. He’s not making any sense. He wants to stop now? After what he said in the diner? “Then what is it?” You snap.

He shakes his head like the words are too painful to speak. “You like Sunghoon, [Y/N], and he’s going to break up with Chaewon soon. I got the pictures I needed for the competition. There’s no reason to drag this on any longer than we already have.”

His words shouldn’t feel like a breakup, but they do. God, they do.  They feel like he’s pulling away from you after you’ve finally come to terms with what you feel for him. “What about what you said in the diner?” You ask finally, voice breaking. “I can’t just act like that didn’t happen, Heeseung. Not when I’m finally–I’m finally…” The words get caught in your throat, but you both know exactly what you mean by them.

His hands squeeze into fists at his side. “That didn’t mean anything, [Y/N].” he says lowly, like breaking your heart is something he does daily. Maybe it was and you just never noticed before. “It was just helping the act. Keeping up the lie. That’s all.”

Tears come to your waterline, the back of your throat beginning to ache from the force of it. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he says firmly, but you can see the way his eyes are beginning to turn glassy. “I really do.”

He turns on his heel then, leaving you alone on the sidewalk and turning his back onto whatever fucked up thing it is you’ve built together. 

Your mother used to say that hate and love were synonymous. You know now that she was wrong.

Because what you feel for Lee Heeseung has nothing to do with love, and everything to do with pure, unadulterated hate.

Your phone chimes, and when you check the notification, what you see doesn't make you feel good. It doesn't bring joy to your heart or make you want to skip down the street. Instead, it makes your heart break a little bit more.

Yunjin: Sunghoon just broke up with Chaewon. We’re so in

You should be happy. This is exactly what you wanted, right?

So why do you feel like you just lost the one thing that mattered the most?

You haven’t talked to Heeseung in three weeks. He transferred out of your shared class–something you didn’t even know was possible this late into the semester–and stopped showing up to any group hangouts. Not that you care, obviously. 

The both of you said your breakup was mutual. That the stress of school and work just didn’t make a relationship possible, but there weren’t any hard feelings. Jake had raised a brow at the entire thing, but ultimately accepted it without a word.

But, Sunghoon seeing the both of you being single at the same time again, decided that meant he could shoot his shot. Which is good–it was the entire point of this entire thing, right?

Sunghoon is nice. He holds the door open for you and he pays for your meals and he takes you back to that coffee shop the both of you loved so much.

He is perfect for you in every sense.

But when he sits next to you, you don’t feel that same spark low in your belly. When he makes a joke, you don’t laugh until you swear you’re going to run out of oxygen. He doesn’t look at you like you mean something to him.

Yunjin's not dumb, she knows something's wrong. Just a few months ago you would’ve been ecstatic at the idea of going on dates with Sunghoon, so why do you seem like you couldn’t care less about him now?

“Are you okay?” She asks, voice filled with concern. “You’ve been…distant.”

“I’m fine,” you answer a bit too quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don't know, why don’t you tell me?”

You blink, turning to look at her in your mirror. You’re in the middle of getting ready for you and Sunghoons third date. He told you to dress nicely for dinner, but all you can think about is the fact that Heeseung would be presenting his pictures for the contest tonight. You didn’t even get to see them, which is more annoying than anything else.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Yunjin.” You lie.

She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and making her way over to you. She smooths down the hem of your skirt without a second thought. “Fine. You don’t have to tell me but, if it’s because of Heeseung–”

“It’s not.”

“–If it’s because of Heeseung, then I’d understand.”

You freeze, eyes snapping to hers. You never told her about the last conversation you’d had with Heeseung, because you figured there wasn’t really any point. He’d “broken up” with you, and that was that. It doesn't mean anything else.

You want Sunghoon. You know you do. It’s the entire reason you and Heeseung came up with that stupid plan in the first place. You aren’t going to throw away a good guy because you’d gotten confused.

“It’s not,” you lie again, “I’m just stressed with finals and stuff. That’s all.”

Yunjin obviously doesn’t believe you. You don’t blame her, of course. You’ve always been an awful liar.

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you’re already dreading what she’s going to say. Every time Yunjin goes silent, it always means she’s going to say something that you probably don’t want to hear. 

“You know,” she starts, voice soft and low, “I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you looked at him.”

You freeze, a shiver rushing down your spine like ice cold water. “What?”

“I just mean–” She backtracks for a moment before deciding to just say it, “you never look at Sunghoon the way you looked at Heeseung. You looked…happy with him. Like, actually happy. Not just because you thought you were supposed to be, but because you actually felt it.”

You go silent at that. You were happy. Even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it–even if you were fighting it for whatever reason. “I’m happy with Sunghoon.” You say with finality, but you both hear how your voice shakes.

“If you say so,” she sighs, turning back and sitting at her desk. “What’re you guys doing tonight?”

You’re grateful for the change in topic. “He’s taking me to dinner,” you shrug, clipping on your earrings. “Somewhere fancy, I guess.”

She hums. “Do you think he’s going to kiss you tonight?”

God, I really, really hope not.

“I hope so,” you answer instead. Maybe kissing Sunghoon will be exactly what you need to get your mind off of him. “I think I’ve waited long enough.” You laugh, but it’s weak. Dishonest.

Yunjin frowns at the sound of it, but she doesn’t push. “Yeah,” she mumbles, “me too.”

Sunghoon arrives at five on the dot. Just like he said he would. You should’ve been watching the clock because you were excited for him to get here, but instead all you could think about every time you glanced at it was how nervous Heeseung must be right now. The contest starts at seven, which means he finds out in the next two hours if he wins the money. Your hand twitches at your side. You want to text him and say good luck, but you don’t. 

“You look beautiful,” Sunghoon says. He’s all dark hair and dark eyes, not a single hair out of place. His suit looks expensive, and you wonder if he bought it just for the occasion. That definitely feels like something he would do.

“Thank you,” you respond, hoping he doesn’t see how fake your smile is. “You clean up pretty nicely as well.”

“I try,” he jokes, outstretching his arm for you. You take it easily, but it doesn’t feel right in your palm. It’s sturdy, easy. But, it doesn’t have any of that fire that you think it should.

Sunghoon is a gentleman the entire night. He takes you to eat, makes corny jokes, kisses your knuckles with pink cheeks. And it’s good. It’s so, so good. It’s exactly what you’ve always wanted.

But when you close your eyes, it’s not Sunghoon you see.

It’s dirty blonde hair covered by some ratty baseball cap. It’s that fucking teasing smile that you used to hate seeing. It’s watching him grow up and having him remember things about you that you’d completely forgotten about.

It’s him. Heeseung.

Sunghoon leads you to your front door nervously, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to get some kind of read on you. You wonder if he can see that your heart isn’t here–that it never was.

“I had a good time tonight,” he says, lips curling up into a soft smile. “I hope it was the same for you.”

“I…” Your words catch in your throat. You know what the logical thing would be to do right now. Accept his compliments, kiss him sweetly, go into your room giddy and wait for him to text you. But it’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong.

“Sunghoon,” you start, eyes filling with tears. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He’s silent for a split second, like he’s trying to process your words. “Why?” He asks, “Did something happen? Did I–Did I do something?”

God, you wish he had. That would make this entire thing so much easier. 

“No,” you laugh wetly, “It’s not you. It’s–it’s me.” You know it’s cliche, but it's true. Because while you should’ve been enjoying him tonight, all you could think about was Heeseung. About the way he’d kissed you at the party. About how he always looked at you like there was more he wanted to say but he just never knew how.

Sunghoon blinks, his eyebrows knitting together and creasing his forehead. “What?”

“You’re perfect, Sunghoon.” you start, the words flowing out of you like you’re finally admitting them to yourself. “And for a long time, you were everything I ever wanted. You went to the cafe with me. You invited me to your games. I thought–I thought that I’d finally found the person I was meant to be with.”

“I–I don’t understand,” he murmurs, “Is that not how you feel anymore?”

Your heart constricts as you shake your head. “I wanted to. I really, really tried to remind myself of how I felt for you before. But…”

It takes him a second, but you see the exact moment recognition flashes across his face. He takes a step back from you, lips falling into a straight line. “But I’m not him.”

You can’t help the sob that rips from your throat. “I’m so sorry, Sunghoon.”

You half expect him to yell, maybe flip you off and drive off in his Porsche while he gets Chaewon on speed dial. But he doesn’t. He stands there for a long moment, breathing slowly, tongue poking the inside of his cheek every now and then.

And then he looks up at you, at the tears staining your cheeks, at how the honesty ripped out of you like a force of nature. He checks his watch–6:50 pm. Ten minutes before the contest starts.

“Come on,” he says, already jogging to the driver's seat.

You’re frozen, watching him with wide eyes. Did he not hear what you just said? “Sunghoon–”

He gives you a look so sharp it nearly steals the breath from your lungs. “We’ve got ten minutes to make it to that contest, and unfortunately, I’m not very big on breaking traffic laws. So, hurry up and get in!”

You gawk at him, a smile curling onto your lips, but you run into his car, nevertheless.

He was right, he’s not big on breaking traffic laws. But you see he’s going five over the speed limit compared to his usual three, and that feels like it counts for something. Even though you’d been leading him on for the past three weeks, he’s still trying to make sure you’re happy. He’s still looking out for you. 

“Thank you,” you sniffle. And you truly mean it.

His gaze stays glued to the road. "Don't mention it.”

You arrive at the photography center with two minutes to spare. Sunghoon doesn't even let you say bye, just rushes you out of the car and wishes you good luck. You don’t look back as you run inside.

You’re thankful you at least dressed nicely for the date, because everyone in here looks like they come from money. Women in floorlength gowns, men in suits you’re sure cost more than your entire tuition. These must be the donors.

The hall is filled with pictures, some simple–some you think you have to be involved in the community to understand. But even as you practically sprint down the hallway, Heeseung is nowhere to be found.

“Please make your way to the dining hall as the photography committee prepares to announce the winner of this year's $100,000 grant!” A voice rings from the intercom, and you blindly follow the crowd into the large room parallel to the hall.

It’s filled with tables, and there’s a stage right at the front of the room with a podium and a giant projector. There’s nothing on it yet, but you’re assuming that’s where they’ll show the winning portfolio.

The tables all have name cards, so you do your best to conspicuously make your way to the back where nobody will notice you standing awkwardly. Plus, from back here it’ll be easier to try and find Heeseung.

You study the crowd, looking for the familiar head of blonde hair, but you come up empty. For a second, you wonder if he’s even here. He has to be here, you think. This is everything to him.

But every time someone new walks in, it’s never him.

You rock back and forth on your feet, a nervous habit. Pretty soon all the chairs are filled out and Heeseung is still nowhere to be seen. You wonder if he’d dropped out of the contest, but that still wouldn’t make any sense. Why would he drop out when photography was so important to him?

You reach for your phone, half tempted to call him and ask where the hell he was, but the lights dim and the president of the photography committee walks up the podium. She’s an older woman, with pin straight grey hair and huge glasses. She has to pull down the microphone to match her height. Heeseung used to joke that even though she looked like she belonged in a Disney movie, she was the toughest mentor he’d ever had. 

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” she starts, voice light. “We had many great admissions this year. All of which I personally took the time to look through, and let me tell you, there was some tough competition. I almost threw up my hands and gave the money to everyone!” 

The crowd laughs at that, but you can tell it’s just them being polite. “But, unfortunately, we can’t do that. So, after many sleepless nights and lots of talks with the committee, I was able to come to a decision. This year's winner is someone I think has put in more effort into his photos than anyone else I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. He’s not naturally talented, no, but he’s dedicated. He takes risks. He tries new things and doesn’t shy away when they don’t work.”

The projector begins to come to life. “As you know, this year's theme was muse. The participants were meant to find a singular person and put together a portfolio of said person.”

The first photo flashes against the screen–and your breath catches in your throat. It's you. But it’s not the ones from the park, no, it’s you in class. Your pencil is in between your lips; brows scrunched together the way they always are when you get frustrated. You’re not wearing any makeup–hell, you look like you just rolled out of bed!

Your breath catches as the photos continue. Some of you in class, in the diner, at that God forsaken party. All pictures that look old and new at the same time. You can tell some are from after this entire mess started, when you and Heeseung started to actually enjoy each other's presence. You look happier in those ones.

But there’s some from before too–when the only times you ever thought about Heeseung were when you were thinking about how much you can’t stand him. Those ones are mostly you in class, all of them shot from the same angle. There’s a few of you from group hangouts, and you wonder how you never noticed him taking them. Maybe it’s because you’re just so used to seeing him with his camera that you stopped noticing it entirely.

It’s the last photo that really gets you though. It’s from the park, you’re sitting in the grass, head tilted to the side, lips curling up into a soft smile. You’re looking into the camera–or, behind it actually–directly at Heeseung, and the look in your eyes is enough to knock the breath from your lungs.

You look like you’re in love.

“This year's winner–though I doubt anyone's surprised–Is Lee Heeseung!”

You barely register her words, because all you can see is Heeseung walking up onto the stage. So that’s where he was, you think.

He’s wearing a suit, though it doesn’t look nearly as nice as everyone else's here. His dirty blonde hair is actually styled for once, and his lips are curled up into a small smile. But it’s not the one you’re used to seeing. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, doesn’t make his face light up like it usually does. Despite winning, he looks almost sad.

He gives a small bow at the podium, shaking hands with the Committee President. He looks nervous as he comes up to the mic, and you squeeze your hands together. Does he want you here? Should you try and make your presence known?

You are the girl in his photos, after all.

“Wow,” he starts, voice shaking slightly. “This is…an honor. Really. I didn’t go into this contest thinking I would win. In fact, I wasn’t going to enter at all. Not until I realized I’d already accidentally found my muse.” He laughs then, but it’s short. “I entered for selfish reasons. Not for the money. Not so that I could get my photos in international shows. But, because I wanted an excuse to get closer to her.”

His eyes scan the crowd, until finally, they land on you. His eyes widen for a moment, lips parting in shock. For a moment, you think he wants you to leave. You wouldn’t blame him if he did.

But he smiles. Really smiles. “None of this would’ve been possible without her.” He continues now, voice more confident. “These photos would’ve sat tucked away in my camera forever. But she made me confident. She reminded me of why I love photography in the first place. So, I’m dedicating this grant to her. To my muse.” His eyes find yours again. “My [Y/N].”

You don’t get a chance to go up to Heeseung until after all of the sponsors have congratulated him, which admittedly takes a lot longer than you think either of you would like.

You can see him on stage, shaking hands with people who you assume must be important. He never keeps his eyes on them for too long. Instead, they trail over to you, like he’s hoping he’ll be able to communicate with you through eye contact.

By the time you can actually speak to him, the hall is mostly empty aside from a few stragglers. He approaches you with caution, like he’s scared of getting too close.

“Hi,” he breathes, stopping a few feet in front of you.

“Hi,” you say back.

The air is softer than it had been the last time you’d seen him. Then, it was harsh. Like smoke filling into your lungs. Now, it feels like a breath of fresh air.

You’re both silent for a moment, like you’re unsure of what to say to each other.

“I broke it off with Sunghoon,” you say eventually, eyes falling to the floor. 

He blinks. “You did?”

“I did.”

“Okay.”

More silence.

“You took pictures of me,” you observe.

“I did.”

“Why?”

He laughs, a full hearty sound, like he’s caught off guard by the question. You don’t know why he would be. You think it’s a perfectly fair thing to ask.

He shrugs, “I felt inspired by you.”

You raise a brow at that. “Inspired? By what—me chewing my pencil like a child?”

He grins, shoving his hands into his pockets. “No. I was inspired by how I felt when I looked at you.”

That makes you pause. “What?”

He fiddles with the corner of his pocket, thumb grazing it once before darting away. He sucks in a deep breath, and then finally, he says everything you know he’s been holding back.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were six years old,” he starts. “Ever since I watched you stay up the entire nap time because Jungwon couldn’t fall asleep. I knew right then and there that I loved you and that I was going to continue to love you for as long as I knew you.”

You can’t help the way your eyes go glassy, heart thumping a million miles an hour in your chest. “Heeseung…”

He doesn’t let you finish. “But I was shy—well, scared is more like it—I was scared that you weren’t going to want to be my friend and I would never be able to be around you.”

“Why would you think that?” 

He shrugs, “why does a third grader think anything?”

You don’t have a reply for that.

He sighs before continuing. “After that it just…became a thing. Our thing. I annoyed you and therefore I got to keep being in your life. Even if it wasn't what I wanted, I figured it was better than not being around you at all.” He swallows, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “But then we got to university and you met Sunghoon and I felt you slipping away from me, and I didn’t know what to do with that. I thought that maybe…maybe it was time for me to let you go.”

Your heart cracks at the strain in his voice, like he’s recalling a bad memory.

“So, I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when Jake came home and started asking me a million questions about our apparent relationship.” 

“Oh, God,” you laugh, shaking your head at the memory. At the time, it’d genuinely felt like the end of the world. Now, you really can’t imagine where your life would be without Yunjin's lie.

For starters, he probably would’ve never told you this, and you would’ve gone your entire life chopping up your relationship to nothing but a high school rivalry that didn’t have any deeper meaning. You would’ve never found out he felt this way—or that you feel the way you do.

“It was good,” he starts again, “pretending. Even though it wasn’t really pretending for me. And then we went to that diner and I just…I got scared. I didn’t want to hold you back from what you really wanted. I thought, she’s hated me for years, at least now she’ll have an actual reason. And I wanted to be okay with that. I really did.” He takes a step closer. “But now you’re here. And I think I know why, but I’m getting tired of assuming things, princess. So, I think you’ll have to tell me.”

You suck in a shaky breath, your own hands fiddling with the hem of your dress nervously. “I…tried. With Sunghoon. I thought it was what I wanted, the easiness of it all. He was kind and he made bad jokes and I thought I was content with that.” 

You roll your eyes, “But then you happened.” You say it like it’s an insult, but you both know it’s not. “And every time I was with him all I could think was how his car didn’t have that mysterious dent in the front. How he didn’t let me play pop music and pretend he wasn’t singing along when we both knew he was. How he didn't make me feel like I actually meant something to him.” 

Your eyes find his for the first time since he approached you tonight. “All I could think about was how he wasn’t you.”

For a brief second, the only noise between the two of you is your breathing and the faint hum of people around you. Heeseung's lips part, his Adam's apple bobbing as he takes in your confession. He’s silent for so long you nearly think you overstepped.

But then he’s taking a step towards you and cradling your jaw with his hand. You don’t move away.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” He says, and the familiarity of his words brings a smile to your face.

“Okay. I trust you.”

And then his lips are on yours.

This kiss is different from the first one. It’s not hungry, not a performance for anyone else. This kiss is solely for you, for the love you’ve found and never plan on losing. It tastes like him and feels exactly like coming home.

His thumb rubs the apple of your cheek, his lips moving against yours slowly. He doesn’t use tongue, but you don’t need him to.

When you finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours and brings his hands down to your waist. They feel heavy against you, like a claim you never knew you needed.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he murmurs.

You giggle, bringing your own arms up to wrap around his neck. “Have you?”

“Yeah,” he responds, “along with…other things.”

You raise a brow at that, “yeah? Like what?”

That’s exactly how you end up back at his apartment, his lips moving against yours like he’s trying to memorize your body with them. Jake and Sunghoon are out thankfully, which means you’ve got the entire apartment to yourself. 

Heeseung leads you blindly to his room, never once turning away from you or attempting to look where he’s going. You laugh as he trips over the carpet, but he swallows it with his mouth on yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says against you. You don’t even notice you’ve made it into your bedroom before your legs hit the mattress and suddenly, he’s pulling you down onto it. “Been waiting so long to have you like this.”

“Yeah?” You manage to say, your voice airy. “Show me, then.”

He pulls back for a moment, eyes looking directly into yours, and then he’s moving his lips to your neck. He leaves wet kisses down the column of your throat, your shoulder, sucking marks into the delicate skin of your collarbone. 

His teeth graze a particular spot at your neck that makes you gasp, and he processes the noise with a slight groan of his own. He bites down on the spot–not hard, just enough for your back to arch and your fingers to find purchase in his hair. Your legs wrap around his waist as his tongue shoots out to soothe the bite.

Slowly, he brings a hand up to the strap of your dress, his fingers slipping under it but never pulling down.

“Hee,” you practically whine, “please.”

He grins, and then he pulls the strap down ever so slowly. You know he’s teasing you, and the thought makes heat pool between your legs.

Once the dress is off, he throws it to the side and sits back on his heels so he can stare at you. You still have your underwear and bra on, but the sight of your bare stomach and legs is enough for him to let out a low whistle.

“You’re so beautiful, princess,” he murmurs. The sincerity in his voice makes your cheeks hot. “So fucking perfect.”

Your lips part to respond, but he leans down and kisses you again. This kiss is different from all the others. It’s messy and deep and pulls noises out of you that you weren’t even aware you could make.

He sucks on your bottom lip once, and then he pulls away and leaves kisses all down your body. Down your neck, your cloth-covered breasts, your stomach, all the way down until he leaves one final kiss at your ankle. 

He seats himself at the edge of the bed and ever-so-gently pulls you down so your legs hang over the edge of the bed and your cunt is level with his face. He stares at it for a long moment, at the wet patch growing on the lace. At your pretty white panties.

Your hands fist the sheets, legs nearly closing on instinct, but he just pushes them over his shoulders and keeps you open for him. “Don’t hide from me,” he mumbles. His hand slowly trails up your thigh until it finds the edge of your underwear.

He keeps it there for what feels like forever. Never touching. Just looking. 

“Please,” you whimper, “please touch me.”

He grins, “yeah? Want my mouth on you, baby?”

You nod, hips rolling against nothing. “Yes, fuck, please.”

That seems to finally break him, because he licks one large stripe up your cunt through your underwear. You gasp at the feeling, your back arching slightly.

He continues licking small kitten-licks over your panties, and the mixture of his saliva and your arousal begins to turn the cloth nearly translucent.

He groans like the taste of you is his favorite meal. “You taste so good,” he murmurs against you, “like heaven.”

You bite your lower lip to keep yourself from crying out when his tongue catches your clit, and then he brings his hands up to your waist and pulls your underwear down your legs. You don’t miss the way he stares at them for a second before letting them drop to the floor.

He spits on your cunt, watching the way his saliva drips down your slit before he sucks your clit into his mouth.

You cry out at the feeling, your toes curling at his back. He groans at the taste and brings his hands up to your hips, gripping them and keeping them still.

“Fuck,” you moan when he brings his tongue down to your hole, collecting the arousal there like it's his own personal ambrosia.

“All this is for me, right?” He questions, trailing a hand down and rubbing his thumb against your clit. The feeling has your head spinning. “Not for Sunghoon, all for me, isn’t that right, princess?”

You nod feverishly, his possessiveness nearly enough to make you finish right there and then. “Yours! ‘S all yours.”

He smirks, “that’s a good girl.” 

And then he brings a finger to your entrance, circling over it once before letting it slip inside the ring of muscle. The air punches from your lungs at the feeling, but then he sucks your clit into his mouth again while his finger thrusts into you and you really think you’re going to start seeing stars.

“Hee–Heeseung,” you cry, “fuck!”

He hums but doesn’t stop. Instead, he pushes a second finger inside and begins to curl them upwards. You feel him hit that spongey spot inside of you and you know you’re done for.

“I’m close–fuck,”

He doesn’t work you harder, just keeps going at the pace so he can drag out your orgasm for as long as possible. “Come on, baby, cum for me. Show me just how bad you want it.”

That’s all it takes for you to release all over his face and hand. Your muscles tighten and relax over and over again, back arching and vision going white. He groans and licks up every drop, working you through it without a complaint.

You expect him to stop now that you’ve finished, but he doesn’t. If anything, he goes harder. The overstimulation begins to border on the edge of too much, and your hips buck up without your permission.

“Fuck, too much, I cant–”

He doesn’t let up. “Yeah, you can. Come on, wanna see you fall apart for me all over again.”

It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to crash over you, and this one nearly leaves your body feeling limp and your pulse to blare against your ears.

Your body is still twitching from aftershocks when he climbs up next to you, and you watch with blurry vision as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and licks them clean. He hums at the taste and then brings his hands to the hem of his shirt and slips it off.

Your eyes trail over the sight of his bare chest, noting every ridge of muscle and mole, watching the way his chest heaves slightly. He’s absolutely beautiful, like a painting you’d find at some stupidly expensive art show.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur.

Now it’s his turn to blush. His ears and cheeks turn a slight shade of pink, but he brings his lips down to yours before you can tease him for it.

Before you know it, his underwear is off and he’s lining himself up with your entrance. He looks up to you for permission, and you nod at him.

Pressure blooms between your legs as he pushes in, but it isn’t exactly painful. It just feels like something you never knew you needed. Like he was made exactly for you.

You keen, back bowing off the bed and eyebrows knitting together. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and rests his forehead against yours as he finally bottoms out.

You can feel him kissing your g-spot, and he experimentally rolls his hips against yours once. You both groan at the feeling of you tightening around him, and then he pulls out slightly and snaps back in.

You cry out, your nails raking down his back. He hisses slightly at the sting but doesn’t make any moves to stop you. Instead, he begins to rock onto you like his life depends on it. You can feel every ridge of his cock; can feel the way it curves at just the right angle. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he gasps, “so perfect. Always knew you would.”

He buries his face into your neck, his hips snapping against yours like his life depends on it. 

You feel yourself getting close, but before you can warn him your back is arching and you're finishing against him.

He cries out, his thrusts beginning to turn sloppy. “Fuck, fuck, I’m–” He finishes inside you without another word, painting your insides with his cum. 

You both lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. He pulls out of you with a low breath and then reaches over for something at his nightstand to clean you up silently.

You watch him as he does, noting the way he cleans up your thighs with so much care. He doesn’t rush the aftercare process either, he kisses your skin gently and murmurs sweet words against you.

By the time your thighs stop shaking and you actually feel like you can breathe without your chest caving in, he’s laying down beside you and pulling you against his chest.

You lay there for a moment, feeling the way his chest rises and falls against your back. The warmth from his skin.

“Heeseung?” You mumble.

“Hm?”

You blink, a smile curling onto your lips. “I love you.”

He doesn’t even hesitate. “I love you, too.”

And for once, you know that you both mean it.

Your mother used to say that hate was just another word for love. And right now, you know that she was right. Because what you feel for Lee Heeseung used to have everything to do with hate, but now you know it was really just another word for love.

Your friend shot you a sympathetic look but you looked to the side, earning a sigh from her. "You need to stop doing this, (Name). You're only gonna hurt yourself if this goes on."

You tuned her out, pointedly looking out of the window on your right. Ningning sighed again, closing the first-aid kit once she's done.

"I'm gonna regret telling you this but I know someone who can teach you," she started, catching how your ears twitched at her words.

She took a deep breath and exhaled. "His name's Heeseung and—"

You shot up before she could finished her sentence. "Wait, did you just say Heeseung? As in the Lee Heeseung? The one who won first place at every competitions?"

Ningning nodded. "Yup, the very same man himself. He doesn't ride anymore, due to a mild injury. He reached out to me first, asking if you needed someone to… teach you."

Your eyes widened, nearly popping out of its sockets. "To teach me?" You repeated, "wait, when did he contact you? And why now?"

Your friend pursed her lips. "Because I'm worried about you! You're spending most of your time practicing. You're always injured whenever you came home. Who wouldn't be worried!"

"Ningning—"

She stopped when she realized she's getting ahead of herself, closing her eyes and internally count to three before reopening them, looking like she had surrendered, like she knew her words couldn't stopped you from chasing after your dreams.

"Just.. be careful," she ended.

You nodded, reaching over to place your hand over hers. "I will. I promise."

~

The next day, you found yourself standing in front of a lonely house.

There's nothing impressive about it at first glance, other than the large and an open-aired fenced up area with a few horses roaming about, their ears twitching. A sheltered stable was situated on the right of the area, where you're certain it's built for horses to take shelter from the harsh, unforgiving sunlight and heavy rain.

At first, you thought you've arrived at the wrong place. You squinted your eyes against the sun shining down on you ruthlessly, holding down your hair when a strong gust of wind blew past you, causing sand to slap lightly against your skin. But no matter where you looked, no one was around. You were about to walk away, feeling defeated when—

"Are you (Name)?"

You looked over your shoulder, body turning as still as a statue when your eyes landed on—what you probably think—is the most handsome man you've laid your eyes upon, in your entire life. His features looked as though they were carefully sculpted from a patient hand—sharp when they needed to be and soft where it mattered.

High cheekbones caught under the sunlight, casting subtle shadows across his face, while his jawline was clean and defined enough to make your stomach do an embarrassing little flip. A worn brown suede jacket hung loosely over his broad frame, the oversized collar lined with dark fur that softened his otherwise imposing appearance. Beneath it was a faded henley shirt, the top button left unbuttoned, showing off more of his sun-kissed skin of his neck and collarbones that made you want to sink your teeth into.

A plaid shirt was tied around his waist, adding another layer to the effortlessly rugged look. Combined with the dust coating his boots and the horses roaming around behind him, he looked like he belonged here.

For the past few seconds or minutes, all you could do was to stare. And it didn't go unnoticed by him, whose eyes gleamed in amusement.

"I'm guessing that's a yes," he said.

Your face flared up. "Uh—"

Great.

Your first ever face-to-face encounter with someone you highly respect and you've already made a fool of yourself. What you didn't know however, was how you're so caught up in your embarrassment to notice how his eyes darkened a shade, how he tongued his cheek as he greedily and shamelessly drink in your figure.

"I know why you're here," he said, saving you from further drowning in a pool of humiliation.

You blinked. "Oh really?"

Heeseung nodded and crossed his arms. "Yup, I saw you before, how you always watch the competitions and shoving your way to stand at the front."

Your ears turned red, not sure whether you should be flattered with the fact that he remembers you, out of everyone else among the audience or something else. You awkwardly cleared your throat, shuffling your feet on the spot, feeling unusually timid with his unwavering and intense gaze that never left your face.

"So, when do we begin?" You asked, managing to keep your voice even and steady despite how your heart's about to leap out of your throat.

The man cocked his head to the side. "What makes you think I'll say yes?"

You opened and closed your mouth, rendered speechless by the sheer audacity of the man. Heeseung laughed, the sound light and melodious. You sworn you heard faint wedding bells ringing in the distance, feeling all light-headed and floaty.

"I'm kidding, I won't go back on my words. I'm not that kind of person," he replied, gesturing for you to follow him as he turned.

You obliged, easily catching up to him and walked beside him, where he brought you over to the fenced up area—where a few nearby mares stopped to look at your approaching figures.

You gulped, entering once Heeseung pushed the fence opened. You watched as a horse headed to him, standing a few centimeters back to observe his interaction with the four-legged creature.

How his features softened as he talked to it in a hushed, comforting tone. The kind of tone one will used when talking to their partner. How he lovingly patted the horse, his calloused fingers brushing against its skin. How he chuckled when it nudged its nose against his neck, huffing out hot air, begging for more attention, similar to a spoiled house cat.

"It likes you. What's its name?" you asked, crossing your arms, unaware that you're smiling from the wholesome interaction.

Heeseung hummed, brushing his hand through the majestic stallion's mane. "Name's Stella, she's been my ride and die since I first saw her. She's very loyal too. Wouldn't let anyone else other than me ride her."

You nodded. "Loyalty is hard to earn. The fact she's loyal to you is an impressive feat of its own."

His lips curled up in a knowing smirk. "If I didn't know better, I would think you're hitting on me."

"Someone needs to knock that ego of yours down a peg," you retorted but your words lacked no bite, your stomach doing another embarrassing flip at how the smirk widened across his face.

Damn, if you knew Heeseung's this fine, you would've done something about it a long time ago.

He stepped away from Stella, turning to walk towards you at a slow, languid pace, like he's taking a walk in a park. It took all of you to not moved an inch, planting your feet into the solid ground beneath your feet.

The cowboy stopped, now standing close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch. With the close proximity, you're able to get a whiff of his cologne mixed with his natural scent.

"Oh really? And who would that be?" He cooed, voice dangerously low and smooth like honey, smooth enough to scratch your brain just right.

Your breath stuttered in your throat when his gaze trailed down your face, lingering on your lips before it's back up to your eyes. He's shameless, with how he doesn't looked ashamed at the fact of him being caught red-handed. And gods, his confidence made your cheeks flushed and your heart skipped a beat.

"I don't know. Maybe it's someone who just so happens to be in need of your… expertise," you replied, matching his tone, watching how his eyes widened slightly before they darkened a shade.

His jaw clenched but before he could say anything, you stepped back, looking at him all innocently despite the very obvious tension engulfing the two of you.

"So, are we getting started or what? C'mon cowboy, show me how you ride," you called out to him.

~

One week passed.

One week of Heeseung showing you the ropes behind horse riding. Putting your… desire for him to ravish you to six ways beyond the world, you're surprised with how knowledgeable he is for what seemed to be common sense. Sure, you have the basics locked down but there's more than just practice makes perfect.

"You're doing it again."

You stopped at his words, about to grab the reins but his voice stopped you. The cowboy leaned against the fence behind him, arms crossed with the hem of his hat dipping low enough to hide his eyes from your view. But it did nothing to hide how they kept flicking down to your bare thighs—something you did on purpose.

You worn the skimpiest outfit you can find in your closet—the shortest pair of shorts that barely covered anything along with the thinnest white crop top and a pair of dusty brown boots to complete the look. When Heeseung first saw you, you could see his brain malfunctioned on the spot.

He dragged his eyes down your body, tongue darting out to wet his lips at your clean, smooth and unblemished thighs. Skin that's practically inviting him in with open arms and legs for him to mark them, to leave physical evidence of him behind, imprinted on your body.

Not to mention, he made zero effort to hide the way he's eye-fucking you every time you bent over, giving him a front-view seat of your behind.

The cowboy sighed, already looking exhausted despite the lesson starting less than ten minutes ago. He didn't push off the fence, choosing to remain there so you can learned from your mistakes without needing him to guide you. Not when he had taught you a few times.

"I've told you before, your weight matters. A horse carries everything you do. Every shift and every movement. If you lean too forward, they feel it. Lean too back and they feel it too," he explained, pushing off the fence and approached you, placing his hand on the stallion's nose, earning a snort of satisfaction.

You hummed absentmindedly, idly twirling the reins around your fingers. It's not your fault, with how attractive the cowboy looks with the sunlight kissing his honey-toned face.

"…Are you listening?" He questioned, despite knowing the answer.

You blinked. "Y-Yea, I was."

Heeseung arched an brow, unconvinced. "Alright, then repeat what I just said."

"…The horse has feelings?"

He didn't reply, mostly because he doesn't have the energy anymore. Instead, all you got was a flat and unimpressed stare. You flashed him your most sweetest and brightest smile—a huge contrast to the kind of thoughts running through your mind, hoping it will softened him up.

But he didn't take the bait.

"Move your right leg back. You're gonna get thrown off the horse if you continue sitting like this," he instructed.

You knew you should move, should obey his words since he's the expert here. But you can't helped it, not with how your eyes, mind and attention drifted somewhere else. To the way his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing more of those choke and drool-worthy skin that you want to feel directly pressed against your body. To the muscles in his forearms, flexing whenever he adjusted the saddle straps or do anything else. And also—

"(Name)."

You blinked, snapping back to reality. "H-Huh?"

He looked at you, that signature unreadable look taking over his handsome and kissable face. "You're staring."

At me.

He doesn't have to say the last two words, not when it's clear as day as to what you were looking at. Heat crept up the back of your neck, flustered with his bluntness.

"..I wasn't! I was thinking!" You blurted out, a poor and feeble attempt to save yourself from your humiliating dilemma.

Heeseung chuckled, the sound low and throaty, enough for heat to pool in your stomach. Fuck, you want to feel the vibrations against your skin. Maybe on your neck or even better, the aching space between your legs. You didn't have to look down to know you're already soaking and leaking.

"Thinking about what? I'm sure it doesn't have anything to do with horse riding," he pointed out, all smug and knowing.

And he's not wrong.

His words gave you a surge of courage. You hopped off the horse, not caring how you'll land badly with how careless you were. The cowboy's eyes widened, genuine horror flashed across his face as he steadied you with his large hands on your hips. He parted his lips, ready to say something but you were faster.

You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, yanked him towards you and crashed your lips against his. The kiss was messy, desperate and hot, fueled by nothing but the mini chasing and waiting game both of you willingly took part in. He was startled at first, with how he didn't react but when it clicked for him, Heeseung returned the kiss with equal neediness.

You let out a pleased sigh against his cupid-bow lips, a sound that he swallowed without hesitation. Heeseung tugged you close until you're pressed chest-to-chest, not leaving any ounce of space between you and him, like he didn't want to be separated from you.

Your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, not caring that the hat he worn fell to the floor or how you're out in the open, with the horse acting as a witness to two humans going at it.

You gave a light, experimental tug on his hair and was rewarded with a low, deep and guttural growl from him. More heat pooled in your stomach just from hearing it.

You attempted to rub your thighs together, desperately craving for some form of friction but Heeseung was faster. He broke the kiss and threw you over his shoulder, like you're nothing but a sack of potatoes.

"Heeseung!"

You squeaked out, mortified and your face turned even redder when he smacked your asscheek. It's not just once but rather, it was twice in a row—one left and one right. You bit down on your lip, swallowing the whimper that nearly slipped from the tip of your tongue, clenching down on nothing as your underwear is directly pressed against your core.

The cowboy turned a deaf ear to you, marching like he has somewhere to be. Looking over your shoulder, you noticed he's bringing you into the stables rather than his own home. The strong stench of hay and horse shit invaded your senses. You didn't have the time to be revolted at it, for your vision was flipped over.

You flailed your arms about like a wild, frantic chicken, only to find yourself straddling Heeseung's lap. The cowboy sat on what seemed to be a few layers of cloths.

His left hand clasped itself around the back of your neck, using it to pull you in so he could kissed you again. You moaned into the kiss, scooting forward, allowing him to touch you everywhere with his free hand.

You gasped as he boldly cupped you through your shorts, moving his hand up and down while swallowing the angelic sounds you made.

"So fucking wet for me. What a dirty, needy girl you are. Coming over and wearing these kinds of clothes. You knew what you were doing, don't you?" He hissed, fingers popping the button open swiftly.

You whimpered, lifting your hips up slightly so he can wrestle it down your legs, leaving you wearing your pathetic, thin and nearly transparent white cotton underwear with a cute pastel pink bow above your pussy. Heeseung pulled back, resting his forehead against yours and he audibly inhaled, unable to tear his eyes away from the large, visible wet patch.

"All this just from kissing? Tell me what you thought about," he murmured, ducking his head to trail hot, searing kisses down the expanse of your neck. It's only right for you to tilt your head back, granting him access as you hooked your arms around his shoulders to support your weight.

"I…hngh…t-thought about your—oh fuck—m-mouth," you stuttered, voice cracking at his kisses growing sharper and meaner, switching to using his teeth to leave marks in his wake.

Heeseung hummed, the vibrations traveling down the length of your body and right down to your pussy, causing more slick to pour out from it. "Yea? Want my mouth on you? Want me to eat you out until you're crying and begging for me to stop? Want me to eat this tight little pussy of yours?"

You outright sobbed at his words, how his voice dropped an octave lower. You grinded your hips against his, seeking for friction but he clicked his tongue, firmly holding you down, forbidding you from moving any further. Heeseung moved away from your neck, his lips swollen and pupils completely blown out, clouded with lust.

He kissed you again, softer and sweeter while he slowly leaned back, bringing you down with him. When he's fully laying on the sheets spread out beneath him, he broke the kiss, chuckling at how you chased after his lips. He patted your right thigh with his hand, shooting you a sly grin when you gave him a confused look.

"Sit on my face, princess. Wanna make you feel good," he said.

Well fuck, if that isn't the hottest thing you've heard in your entire life. As much as you wanted to lower yourself, a small part of you was unsure, thinking you were mishearing things. You looked at him, your hands curled into fists as they rested on your lap.

"..Are you sure?" You asked, your voice small.

Heeseung's features softened, his doe-like eyes never leaving your face, not even for a split second. "Of course I'm sure. I want this and you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words combined with the pure sincerity in his voice. You scooted upward with him holding you gently but firmly by your waist until your core is hovering directly over his face. You let him tugged your panties to the side. The movement caused long, sticky and glimmering strands of slick to stretch until they snapped into half.

"Fuck, look at this.. So fuckin' pretty and wet. It's all for me, isn't it?" He breathed out, now hooking your arms around your waist, forcing you to lower yourself down onto his awaiting mouth.

The moment you fully sat on his face, you sworn you nearly saw the white pearly gates of heaven.

Heeseung eats you out like a starving, famished man, like he hasn't eaten a proper meal for the past five months. And that wouldn't be far from the truth. He's enthusiastic, messy and sloppy—all of the three things combined into what will probably be the best pussy-eating session you ever had.

Long and broad strokes along your puffy, dripping folds with the tip of his tongue used to collect your essence as he lapped away, like a dog in heat. When he reached your clit, he savored it with quick and pointed flicks, enough to make you bend forward, hands fisting the sheets beneath your palms.

Your thighs quivered at a particular loud and harsh suck with his lips wrapped around the hood of your clit, the suction making your toes curled in your boots.

"O-Oh fuck. So fuckin' good—hah," you moaned out loud, shame be dammed at this point.

He moaned, shaking his head side to side, further smearing your slick across his face, like how one does when they're spreading butter on bread. Loud slurping sounds and moans filled the air in the stables. Both of you didn't care that there were some horses in the same roof as you, both too focused in the current heat of the moment.

You weren't aware you were rocking your hips against his mouth, using the sharp edge of his nose to get yourself off. Heeseung groaned in approval, letting you use him like a tool. He moved his hand down to your ass, alternating between spanking and kneading the meaty flesh, like it's nothing but dough with his warm and calloused hand.

Your breathing grew ragged and unsteady, something tight gradually building in your abdomen, like a piece of rubber-band was stretched beyond its limit. The cowboy knew you're reaching your climax and he buried his face deeper into your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit in just the right angle.

You could barely register the kind of sounds you were making. Sounds that could rival against a professional pornstar. The crop top you worn cling onto your skin, drenched in nothing but your sweat from the humidity of the stable.

"I-I'm gonna cum—fuck, c-close," you babbled.

Your words only made him increased the intensity, with him now paying more attention to your swollen, sensitive clit. The last straw came in the form of him plunging his tongue as deep as possible for you to tip over the edge. Your thighs was clamped tightly around his head, body shaking like a fallen leaf as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

Heeseung didn't pull away but rather, he continued. He ate you through your orgasm, letting out louder moans and groans, acting like he's the one cumming instead of you. You had to pull at his hair relentlessly, trying to get him away from your sensitive pussy. Only when he pressed a final, light kiss directly on your core was he finally satisfied.

He sat up, only for you to stop him with a hand on his chest. Confused, he lets you pushed him back down until he's half-leaning against the wall behind him.

Confusion was replaced with understanding and desire once he saw how you scooted down, getting to your knees between his legs. You pushed the hem of his shirt up, revealing his honey-toned skin, outlines of his abs along with a dangerous v-line that took your breath away.

"Let me help you out," you murmured, never breaking eye contact as you palmed him through his jeans, feeling him hardened and filling out between your fingers.

Heeseung groaned, watching you with half-lidded eyes. He lets you unbuttoned and pulled the zipper down, the sound seemingly loud in the stable, foreshadowing what's to come. The jeans and Playboy boxers quickly came off as you placed it aside, not wanting it to be dirtied even though he doesn't care about that.

Your breath was punched out of your lungs when his cock sprang free from its restraints. It slapped against his toned stomach, leaving a bead of precum behind.

You planted a kiss on the tip—light and fleeting, savoring the way his breath hitched and how he canted his hips forward, his cock gliding against your left cheek.

You took him into your mouth, lips stretching as wide as possible to accommodate the grith of his cock. To say he's big would be an understatement. You felt a stinging and lingering pain from your jaw muscles, with how you're overexerting yourself to take him fully but you persisted. Your nostrils flared, able to smell his musty scent that makes your head spin and eyes dazing out.

Heeseung threw his head back, baring his Adam's Apple that bobbed up and down as he swallowed. Sweat droplets rolled down his neck. It's obvious he's fighting against his own demons—to fuck your throat like it's nothing but a fleshlight. You inched forward, starting off at a slow, steady rhythm as you bobbed your head back and forth.

You hummed, the added and abrupt vibration drew a choked out, breathless moan from the cowboy. Determined to hear more, you used your hand to touch areas you couldn't reached with your mouth, lightly raking your nails along the edge of his cock.

Heeseung's hips twitched and he accidentally jerked forward, shoving more of his cock down your mouth, eliciting a surprised, muffled sound from you.

"That's it, take it. Take everything," he grunted, hips moving as he thrusted into your mouth, reaching out with one hand to blindly grab a fistful of your hair, using it as reins like you're a horse and he's your rider.

You picked up the pace, hollowing your cheeks for better suction, causing him to arch his back off the sheets as it sticks to his back, already damp with nothing but his sweat.

Your hand reached further down, cupping and fondling with his heavy balls that's practically on the verge of bursting and he cum, spilling down your throat.

You didn't gag, swallowing everything he has to offer, slobbering away at his cock like it's nothing but a piece of chicken drumstick, pushing him through his climax. Heeseung's loud when he cums, moaning and chanting your name like a sacred prayer.

When he fell back to the sheets, all limp and boneless, you took that as your cue to pull away, planting a kiss on his tip, snickering at how it twitched from the contact.

Heeseung's eyes shifted to you, panting and he tugged you over, meeting you in the middle. Both of you moaned at the heavy taste of his cum filling your mouths.

The rest of your clothes were frantically removed, fueled with nothing but the pent-up need to feel your bodies pressed together. He paused, breath taken away from how your breasts jiggled free when he chucked your bra aside.

He leaned forward but you stopped him, fingers clasped around his chin, forcing him to look up at you with wide eyes.

"Next time. Just fuck me before I lose my mind," you confessed, like you're committing a sin.

He made a low, needy sound at the back of his throat, deeply affected by your words and the sheer desperation in your voice. He nodded eagerly, pulling you down to kiss you, wanting to get another taste of you. If he could, he'd prefer to stay like this until the end of the world—you sitting on his lap, the only place you deserved and you let him worshiped you.

You sighed into the kiss, letting your hands feel him up as you touched his bare chest, feeling him shivered under your palms when you brushed your fingers against his nipples. You opened your eyes when something light was placed on top of your head. One glance up was enough to identify the newly added but barely noticeable weight.

"Seriously?" You asked, amused but made no move to remove the accessory.

Heeseung, on the other hand, was starstruck by the sight before him. "Fuck, you look gorgeous. Ride me while you wear it."

You arched an brow. "So bossy, but if you insist."

With his help, you aligned yourselves together. Instead of sinking down immediately, you rocked your hips back and forth, moaning at the delirious sensation of his cockhead rubbing against your fat, dripping pussy lips. Heeseung hissed, nails digging into your hips when you grabbed a hold of his cock before pushing yourself down.

He watched, mesmerized with how his cock disappeared, inch by inch until you bottomed out, your asscheeks hitting his strong, muscular thighs. Your moans echoed among the four walls of the stables, with the horses minding their businesses.

Your mouth dropped open, forming an "O" shape at how you're practically being split apart on his cock.

"Fuck, so tight and warm," the cowboy rasped out, squeezing his eyes shut and teeth sinking into his bottom lip, clearly fighting against his restraint to not buck upwards.

You reached out, placing both hands on his shoulders to raise yourself up until his tip is still nestled between your pussy lips before slamming down. You repeated it, managing to set a doable pace for yourself, ensuring to move your hips in a tight circle motion at every thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin along with the wet, squelching sounds was the only things audible in the stables.

You arched your back, pushing your chest forward, squealing out loud when Heeseung leaned forward to wrap his lips around your right nipple. He switched between licking and nipping at it. You had to hold the hat down from on top when you felt it tipping backward. He used his free hand to pinch your other nipple, wanting to give equal love and attention while you bounced on his lap.

"Just like that, doll. Look at you, you're a natural at riding," he groaned, detaching his lips from your nipple that's covered in a thin layer of saliva.

You watched with half-lidded eyes as the string of saliva snapped into half as he leaned back, wanting to take in the majestic view before him.

A series of whimpers, moans and whines spilled from your lips endlessly, like a broken water tap. You didn't care that you were being extremely loud, not like there's anyone around in the first place. Here, it's just you and Heeseung, along with the horses being the unfortunate victims of watching someone riding the living lights of their precious rider.

Heeseung gripped onto your hips and delivered a sharp, long thrust upward. It's enough to draw a high-pitched cry from you. Your body slumped forward, arms hanging loosely around his shoulders and he took that as his cue to fuck into you from below.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, tongue licking up the sweat on his honey-toned skin, tasting salt on your tongue. Your nails dug into his back, hard enough to leave marks behind—something he doesn't mind.

You keened, unable to think of anything else other than the intoxicating feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your wet, gaping pussy and how he's able to hit places that you thought it was impossible to.

"H-Hee.. hngh, g-gonna cum—"

You slurred, tears prickling your eyes with your vision blurring slightly. At your words, Heeseung threw your right leg over his shoulder. You were still seated on his cock but the slight change of angle allowed him to slide deeper, if that was still possible.

"Cum for me, baby," he demanded, hand snaking down to rub your clit furiously.

You had to support your weight with your hands braced against the sheets beneath you. You whimpered at the sudden, painful stimulation. Your body quivered nonstop as pleasure crashed over you without warning, your walls convulsing around his cock violently. Heeseung showed no signs of stopping as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

"S-Stop! Too much," you wailed, milking his cock dry until a creamy white ring was formed around the base of his cock.

"Yes, you can. Do it for me," he panted, his movements growing sloppy.

With one final long thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and filled your pussy with thick and hot cum, painting your walls in the shade of milky white.

You moaned at the feeling of being filled up, feeling unusually full as he pumped you full of his cum. Your thighs trembled when you felt something warm and sticky slowly rolling down your thighs but made no move to wipe it off, too exhausted to lift a single finger.

You slumped against Heeseung, chin on his left shoulder. Both of you didn't say a word, catching your breath first. You felt him softening inside you but he didn't pull out.

"Heeseung, you—!?"

You didn't finish your sentence, not when he snapped his hips upward again. You sobbed, your pussy too sensitive for anything else now. You leaned back, wanting to tell him off or to stop him, only for your voice to die down in your throat.

Even when he looks wrecked, he still looks annoyingly handsome, much to your mild annoyance. Whatever thoughts or words you had in mind was washed down the drain when he snapped his hips forward, his cock kissing that one spongy spot hidden in your pussy, making your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Pablo Neruda once wrote: I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees. He doesn't explain what spring does exactly, he assumes you already know. Everyone has felt that combination of arrival and disruption and beauty once. Spring doesn't ease you into anything, it just shows up one day and suddenly everything that was dormant is out in the open, exposed and vivid, and you start wondering how you went from bare branches to this, without noticing the exact moment it changed.

What people miss about that line is that spring always leaves, and that's not a tragedy in the poem and Neruda doesn't treat it like one. Spring was never going to stay, that's not what spring is for. The cherry trees don't mourn the end of spring, they just stand there changed in whatever season comes next, carrying the proof of what happened to them in the way they've grown. The poem is not about the love that lasts, but about the love that makes you into something you couldn't have become alone.

You thought about that poem more than you should have. You used to turn this over in your head on the bad nights, on the nights when you'd done the math too many times and kept arriving at the exact same answer — that you'd been right about each other and wrong about the circumstances, and that maybe that was its own kind of love story, just not the kind that gets a second act. It helped, sometimes. Other times it felt like something you were saying to yourself in place of something you didn't have the words for yet. But you kept trying to believe that what you two had was complete even if it wasn't permanent, that it counted, that it had changed you in ways you were still discovering. That's what you told yourself when you thought too much about the end.

While you thought too much about the end, Heeseung thought too much about the beginning. You were eleven and he was twelve, his family used to visit the city sometimes, cousins on his mom's side who lived three streets from your childhood home, and one summer he showed up at the end of your block and didn't know the rules of the game everyone was playing and argued about it for twenty minutes. You remember thinking he was annoying. He remembers thinking you were the kind of kid who knew everyone's name already and made him feel like he'd arrived late to something.

You played outside until it got dark, something kids don't do anymore and you both did back then without thinking about it, just stayed out because no one had called you in yet and there was no reason to leave. What he remembers is that at some point, you ended up sitting on the curb away from the others, and he was probably talking about some stupid boyish thing, and you had this way of listening even then, chin in your hand, actually paying attention, like what he was saying mattered. Heeseung wasn't used to that, even though Heeseung was only twelve.

His family came back the next three summers. You'd spot him from your window sometimes before he spotted you, this familiar-unfamiliar face showing up at the end of your street, and you'd go downstairs like you just happened to be going outside. You'd pick up wherever you'd left off, easy in the way things are easy when you're young and don't know yet to be guarded. He brought a portable speaker one summer and you'd sit on the building steps and argue about music, mostly you telling him his taste was bad and him defending himself without much conviction.

Heeseung eventually stopped coming. His family just stopped making the trip, and you'd notice his absence the first summer and then less the second and then it was just how things were. You'd see his name on your phone sometimes, a like here, a story view there. Once, when you were sixteen, he'd commented a single emoji on a photo you posted. By the time you were almost adults you were basically strangers who knew each other's faces.

But then, one day, you were running late when you ran into him. You'd taken the wrong exit and had to double back and you were annoyed and distracted and got on the train and almost didn't look up from your phone at all. He was standing by the opposite doors with his hands in his jacket pockets and you almost didn't place him and then you did, all at once. He looked up at the same moment and that felt like something, even then.

You both figured out within about a minute into the conversation that you were going to the same concert. He showed you his ticket on his phone like proof and you laughed and said that's insane and he said I know and you looked at each other in that way you look at someone when coincidence feels a little too neat to be only coincidence. The Strokes played Someday third song in. You grabbed his arm without thinking about it and you let go of his arm and you both faced the stage and you could feel him smiling even without looking at him.

The show ended at eleven. He said so and you said so and then you both laughed because that was all there was to say. You ended up at a place nearby that was still open and you stayed there until they started stacking chairs around you and the guy behind the counter looked at you twice before you got the hint. You talked the way you talk to someone you don't really know but somehow aren't nervous around. He told you about his hometown and you told him about the last five years and it was easy in a way you couldn't fully explain, the way it sometimes is with people you knew before you knew anything, before you'd decided who you were going to be. At some point you were talking about something completely unrelated and he laughed at something you said and you thought, this is a memory I would like to keep.

Heeseung texted you when he got back to where he was staying that night. That was really fun, he wrote. You read it in bed with your phone on your chest after and thought yeah, it really was.

The next day you walked around for a long time without going anywhere specific. You showed him the street where you grew up and you stood outside your old childhood home for a minute, and Sunday came too fast. You drove him to the airport because you offered and he said yes maybe a little too quickly. The drive took almost fifty minutes and you talked the whole way, then you were there and you weren't talking anymore and you pulled up to departures, and Heeseung looked at you and you looked back, and there was something there that you didn't have a name for yet, something that felt old and new at the same time. He picked up his bag and said he'd text when he landed. You watched him walk through the sliding doors and then you sat there for a moment longer than you needed to before pulling away.

He texted when he landed. You were still awake, not because you'd been waiting, except you had been. landed safe, he sent. Then a minute later: hey. for what it's worth, running into you was the best thing that happened to me this year.

After that, talking to Heeseung just became part of your day. He'd send you something he saw on the way to work, you'd reply hours later with something completely unrelated, and somehow that would turn into an hour of back and forth that neither of you had scheduled. You'd fall asleep mid conversation and wake up to three messages he'd sent after, the last one always something like okay you're asleep. talk tomorrow. You always talked tomorrow.

He called one night because he said he was too tired to type and you ended up on the phone for two and a half hours, both of you lying in your respective beds in your respective cities, talking about nothing that mattered and somehow not running out of things to say. When you finally hung up it was past two in the morning and you had work the next day and you lay there in the dark staring at the ceiling feeling something you didn't want to look at too directly yet.

He made you a playlist once and the title was just a date — the date of the concert, the day you ran into each other on the train. You listened to it on your commute and texted him you put Someday first and he said obviously and you smiled at your phone like an idiot on a crowded bus. So you made him one back and you spent longer on it than you'd admit. You watched movies together sometimes, texting reactions in real time because neither of you could figure out the sync on any of the watch together apps and at some point it stopped mattering.

Nobody called it anything and you didn't talk about what it was. There was no conversation where you defined it, no moment where either of you said so what is this. It just kept being what it was, consistent and entirely without a label, and most of the time that felt okay.

Then he texted you a screenshot of a festival lineup with no caption. You looked at it for three seconds and then called him. "When is it," you said instead of hello.

"June," he said. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" You were seeing what he was seeing. Heeseung bought his ticket that night and you already had yours by the time he texted to ask if you were going to get one.

You were at the arrivals gate twenty minutes early. You watched the doors and then he was coming through them with his backpack on one shoulder, looking slightly jet lagged and exactly like himself, and he saw you and his whole face changed in this quiet way, not a big reaction, just relief, maybe. You hugged and he lifted you off the ground, picked you up like it was nothing, and you laughed into his shoulder and he held on for a second longer than necessary and when he put you down you thought, very clearly, this is not how you hug a friend. You picked up his bag and said you look terrible and he said I was on a plane for several hours and and you both laughed and he followed you to the car.

You were at every show together, front to back, and Heeseung had this thing where he'd lean down to say something in your ear when it was loud, not always anything important, sometimes just this part right before a song got good, like he wanted to make sure you were paying attention to the same thing he was. You always were.

Heeseung always had a hand on your back when you were moving through a crowd, his chin on top of your head when you were both standing still watching something, finding your hand in the dark without looking. One night you were waiting for a set to start and he was standing behind you and he said something in your ear and you turned around to respond and your faces were closer than you'd calculated for and neither of you moved back. You said whatever you were going to say. He listened. You turned back to face the stage and your heart was doing something unreasonable and the music started and you let it.

On the last night you sat on the grass after the final set, not ready to leave yet. The field was emptying out around you and you were both just sitting there, not saying much, and he was pulling at the grass next to him, and you looked at him and thought you were going to miss him when he leaves. And then, underneath that, you thought that you were already missing him even though he was right there.

You sat on the curb outside your building for a long time after the festival ended. At some point Heeseung started humming something and you recognized it before he got to the words. "Wish You Were Here? Pink Floyd," you said.

"Yeah."

"I love this song." You were quiet for a second. Then you said, "do you know what it's actually about?"

He looked at you. "Tell me."

You told him about Syd Barrett, Pink Floyd’s founding member. Barrett suffered a mental breakdown and was ousted from the band in 1968, so you told him about how Roger Waters wrote it for someone who was physically there but already gone in every way that mattered. How the band would play it for him sometimes and he'd show up to the studio unrecognizable and they wouldn't even know it was him at first. How it's a song about watching someone disappear while standing right next to them. Heeseung listened with forearms on his knees, looking at the street.

"There's another interpretation though," you said. "About becoming so successful and so numb that you stop being present in your own life. Like, don't get so lost that you forget to actually be there."

"So it's about two different kinds of absence," he said.

"Yeah," you said. "Exactly."

He nodded slowly and didn't say anything for a moment. A car passed. Somewhere above you a window was open and you could hear the low sound of someone's television. "I think regardless of all that," he said, and his voice was quieter now, "every time I hear that song from now on I'm going to think about you."

You didn't see it coming. You don't know why — you should have, probably, but you didn't, and it landed somewhere unguarded, and before you could do anything about it your eyes filled up and you looked away.

"Hey," he said immediately. "Hey, c'mere." Heeseung put his arm around you and pulled you in and you let him, your face against his shoulder, and he just held you there on the curb outside your building at whatever time it was, not saying anything else, just his hand on the back of your head, careful.

When you pulled back you looked at him and he was already looking at you, close, and you thought about how easy it would be and how hard it would be and how those were the same thing right now. "I really want to kiss you," you said. "And I think that's going to make tomorrow really hard."

He looked at you for a moment. "I know," he said. And then, softer: "I know."

He kissed you anyway, or maybe you kissed him, you can't tell afterward who moved first. It was gentle and it lasted and when it ended you stayed close, foreheads touching, neither of you saying anything. It was the best moment of your life and one of the saddest and you understood, right then, that those two things were going to live together for a long time. Heeseung loved to remember that one specific moment.

Heeseung, unfortunately, also remembered the last night he spent with you with an unfairly amount of clarity, because it was so ordinary in every way it shouldn't have been. You were sitting on your couch with your legs across his lap, both of you watching something neither of you cared about. The apartment was too quiet and he'd thought he wanted to remember this moment, which probably meant he already knew you weren't going to cross his path again. The conversation, when it finally came, wasn't a fight; it was two people being honest with each other at the exact wrong time, or maybe the exactly right time, which sometimes does look the same. The most painful thing about loving someone the way you'd loved him was learning to recognize his truth, even when it costs you something. Even when it costed you him.

But what really stayed with Heeseung wasn't exactly the ending, but everything before it. You had given him something he didn't have a word for yet, like the version of himself he'd been while loving you, that was less guarded and more willing. He didn't know what to do with that now that you were gone, it felt like inheriting something beautiful with no place to put it. Some nights he'd catch himself thinking, at least it happened. Other nights that thought felt like the cruelest one of all.

Meanwhile, you made a list of all the things that were supposed to help, assembled from every friend who meant well and every corner of the internet that promised a way through. You tried most of them, trying to act organized about your grief, which felt inappropriate somehow given how disorganized the grief itself was.

You rearranged your bedroom, moved the bed to the other wall, switched which side the lamp was on and bought new pillowcases in a different color. It worked for exactly one night, the unfamiliarity of it, waking up disoriented and not immediately knowing where you were. By the third morning your body had already memorized the new geometry and you were back to reaching for your phone before you were even fully awake, which is how you'd been starting every day since, looking for something you couldn't name and definitely weren't going to find on TikTok.

Then there was the phase you got very into routines. You read somewhere that structure was healing, that the body finds comfort in repetition, so you set alarms and kept them and made yourself eat breakfast at the same time every day and immediately going to the gym next. It helped, keeping yourself busy always helps, which is to say it helped until it didn't, until a random morning the coffee finished brewing and your apartment was very quiet and you stood at the counter of your kitchen and felt it anyway — the whole weight of it, right on schedule, completely unbothered by your new routine.

The crying wasn't even the hardest part, because crying at least felt like something. The hard part was the in between, the perfectly normal moments that somehow hurt even more. You'd be on your way to work, reading, entirely unbothered, and then you'd remember something he said once, something small and stupid and specific to him, and your chest would forget how to work for a second. You'd watch a funny reel and immediately think of his reaction and then remember you wouldn’t know his reaction. You wondered if that was pathetic, then you wondered why you were so concerned with whether your grief was pathetic, and who you were performing sanity for, and why. Then you'd turn the page. Someone across the aisle would shift in their seat. Life would keep moving, as advertised.

Heeseung went home after you broke up. Jay picked him up from the airport and looked at him before saying anything, exactly like people do when they already know but are giving you the chance to bring it up first. By dinner that night somehow everyone already knew, someone just said so, you good? and Heeseung said yeah in a tone that meant the opposite.

Jungwon tried to get him to do the hundred beers thing, obviously. Heeseung made it through maybe four before he just stopped and nobody pushed it, which he was grateful for. Jake and Riki dragged him out one night to a bar and Heeseung stood there holding a drink he wasn't really drinking, and at some point Jake just put a hand on his shoulder and said we don't have to stay and they left twenty minutes later and got Taco Bell instead, and that ended up being the better night by a lot.

What actually helped — if anything did — wasn't any of the specific things but just being around people who'd known him before, who could sit with him in a room without needing him to be okay. Sunghoon made fun of him for something stupid he did in middle school and Heeseung laughed for real for the first time in weeks, and it wasn't because the joke fixed anything. It just reminded him that he existed outside of heartbreak, that there was a version of him that had nothing to do with you, that had been around a long time before you and apparently was still in there somewhere.

Still, he kept catching himself doing the thing where a place would remind him of something and he'd just stand there for a second, recalculating.

His cousin's wedding was the first thing you two ever went to together as an actual couple; the first time either of you had to explain to other people what you were to each other, something neither of you had really practiced. His aunt asked, very directly, in front of everyone, and who is this? and Heeseung had said this is— and then paused for just slightly too long, and you'd jumped in and said your name and then, after a beat, his girlfriend, like you were trying it out loud for the first time too. His aunt had said oh, finally, like this had been a long time coming, making you laugh, and Heeseung remembered standing there thinking that you'd just said it so easily, and that had made it feel like a bigger deal.

The trip to the mountains was the first real trip you went on together, just the two of you for a few days on a cabin he'd found. It was, by any measure, romantic. The cabin had a fireplace that he spent way too long trying to figure out and a window that looked out at actual mountains and you'd cooked together in a kitchen too small for two people, bumping into each other constantly, and at night you'd sat wrapped in the same blanket watching something on his laptop because the cabin didn't have a TV.

But what he actually thought about, more often than the fireplace or the view, was the heater breaking on the second night and the two of you lying there in every layer of clothing you'd packed, laughing about it instead of being annoyed. He thought about the hike that was supposed to take two hours and took four because you'd insisted on a "shortcut" you found on your phone that turned out to not exist, and you'd both ended up arguing about whose idea it was while also laughing too hard to actually be mad, and by the time you got back it was dark and you were both starving and the only thing open was a gas station and you'd eaten gas station food like it was the best meal of your life because you were so hungry, sitting on the hood of the rental car in the cold.

Those were the things he remembered, the parts that would only ever mean anything to the two of you, the kind of thing you'd bring up years later and both immediately start laughing.

The first time you flew out to see him after you'd both quietly decided this was a thing now, without either of you using the word relationship out loud yet — he remembered standing at arrivals and seeing you before you saw him, and you looked pale, lightly green. You hadn't told him until after that you hated flying and that you hadn't been on a plane in years, that you'd spent the whole flight gripping the armrest and doing breathing exercises and that you'd nearly cried during turbulence. You told him all of this like it wasn't a big deal, like you hadn't just done something that scared you specifically so you could stand in this airport.

Heeseung hadn't known what to say to that, then. He still didn't, fully, even now. He just remembered taking your bag and putting his hand on your back and you leaning into him slightly, still a little unsteady, and him thinking — not in those words but the feeling of it — you did something hard to get here. He hadn't asked you to, you'd just done it.

After that it was the normal stuff. Time zones you both did math around. Flights that got more frequent and then somehow never frequent enough. His friends started including you in plans before you'd even arrived — is she coming this time? — and your friends started doing the same with him, asking about him like he was just part of the group now, which he was. You'd shown up to enough things that people stopped explaining who you were to each other. You were just Heeseung and you, one unit. So that's why it hurt even more when his heart broke.

Heeseung never actually had his heart broken before. He'd had things end before but nothing serious, nothing that lasted more than a month. He'd never had a person and never built a life around someone and then had to figure out what to do with the life once the person was gone.

So when it actually happened, he didn't recognize it. He thought he just had a cold. That's not a joke, for the first few days he genuinely thought something was physically wrong with him, because nothing had ever made his body feel like that before. His chest hurt not metaphorically, he felt like there was something tight wrapped around his ribs that didn't loosen no matter how he sat or stood or breathed. He didn't know that heartbreak was a physical thing. He'd heard people say things like my chest hurts about breakups his whole life and always thought it was just an expression. He found out that it was true the hard way, lying awake with an actual, physical, located ache in his chest.

He wasn't hungry, which had literally never happened to him in his life because Heeseung was always hungry, and then when he did eat, food tasted like nothing, like he was chewing for the sake of chewing. He'd lie down to sleep and his brain would just start running through everything on a loop he couldn't turn off, and he'd look at the clock and it would be 4 a.m. and he'd have work in four hours.

He kept reaching for his phone to tell you things, like send you a video, a thought, this happened today, you'd find this funny. His thumb would be most of the way to your contact before his brain caught up and he'd just sit there holding his phone feeling like an idiot. It happened more times than he wanted to admit but it still happened, actually, even weeks later like some reflex in him that kept assuming you were still the person he told things to.

And there were the plans and that was maybe the worst part. A trip you'd been saying you wanted to take, an apartment thing, eventually, someday, a conversation you have when you're imagining a future together without officially deciding you're imagining a future together. None of it had been a promise exactly, but it had been real in the sense that he'd started picturing it, started letting himself assume it.

And now all of that was just sitting there unused. He didn't know what to do with a future he'd been picturing that didn't exist anymore. It wasn't like returning something you bought, where there's a process, a receipt or somewhere to send it back. It was more like the plans were still technically his, still in his head, except they didn't connect to anything real anymore, and he didn't know if he was supposed to throw them away or just let them sit there until they stopped meaning anything on their own. Neither option felt possible. He just had this whole imagined life with no home for it.

And you'd been through heartbreak before, or you'd thought you had. You'd had a breakup at seventeen that wrecked you for months, your friends had to physically remove you from your room sometimes, and you'd thought, at the time, that this was what heartbreak was. And you'd survived it, you'd come out the other side eventually, and some part of you had filed that experience away as the worst it gets, a kind of benchmark — you'd been through the worst, so whatever came after, you'd know how to handle it.

You did not know how to handle it.

It wasn't that this hurt the same and you were just better at managing it now. It was that this hurt more, because by every external measure the relationship at seventeen had been messier and more obviously bad for you. This one hadn't been bad and that was the whole problem. There was no version of this where you got to be angry at Heeseung, no version where you could point to something and say that's why it ended, that's the villain of the story, and that was so much harder to carry than betrayal had ever been.

You thought, I already did this. I already know what this feels like. And then you'd be hit by something like a song or a memory, and you'd realize you didn't know what this felt like at all. This heartbreak was something else entirely when the first one had been just bad, because you'd never actually lost something you thought might have lasted. At seventeen, some part of you had always known it wasn't going to work out. This time you hadn't known that, this time you'd been wrong about that, and being wrong about that was its own kind of grief, separate from the grief of losing him.

But there were moments that felt like progress. You went to the movies by yourself one day because you had nothing else to do and the alternative was sitting in your apartment alone again. You bought a ticket for a movie nobody else wanted to see, got popcorn, sat in the middle of an almost empty theater and watched the whole thing. Walking out afterward, you felt — and you remember being almost embarrassed by how big this felt for something so small — capable. Like you'd done something that proved you could still be a person who did things alone. It was such a small thing but it felt enormous.

You went out with your friends one night and a guy at the bar started talking to you, and you flirted back, leaned into it a little, enjoyed it even. He was funny and he asked for your number near the end of the night and you almost gave it to him, you really almost did, and then you didn't, and you told your friends in the bathroom I don't think I'm ready, I think I just wanted to know I still could, and you went home that night feeling fine about it.

You downloaded one of the dating apps eventually, because everyone kept telling you it would help, and you matched with someone within the first day, and you looked at the match notification for a long time and then deleted the app. You just didn't feel like doing it and you'd promised yourself a while ago that you weren't going to do things anymore just because you were supposed to.

And yes, you bleached your hair. At home, by yourself, with a box kit and gloves, because you'd decided that going into your late twenties, it made sense to have pink ends again, something you hadn't done since you were a teenager. It took three tries to get the bleach even and you fried your hair more than the box promised you would, and it looked a little uneven for the first week, but you loved it anyway.

For a while you thought all of this was the healing, and it was, partly. But at some point you noticed that you were doing all of it a little too quickly, a little too eagerly, like you were decorating around a hole instead of dealing with the hole. You were busy, and you were fine, and underneath both of those things was everything you hadn't actually let yourself feel yet.

So one night you decided, very deliberately, that you were going to feel it and not avoid it, just feel it, all the way for the first time since it happened. You got in the shower and you sat down on the floor of it, water running over you, and you just let it happen. And it wasn't pretty crying, it was loud and ugly and it didn't stop when you wanted it to. You'd always called it emotional constipation, where you go too long without crying and it all just sits there waiting, and when it finally comes out it comes out all at once, everything you'd been holding for weeks, and you have no control over how long it takes or even what it looks like.

You don't know how long you sat there but probably for long enough that your legs went a little numb from the position. And while you cried you let yourself go back through it on purpose this time. You let yourself have all of it again, fully, one more time, specifically so you could put it down. You thought about the way Heeseung used to talk about love, back when none of this had happened yet, back when love was still a theory to him and not something that had already happened to him and broken his heart.

He'd never been in love before you. He told you that early on like a disclaimer, like he wanted you to know what you were getting into, that he was the kind of person who needed things to make sense. He'd grown up obsessed with space, he had learned that the universe is infinite and if everything he'd ever do or feel amounted to a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the universe's lifetime, then none of it had to be a big deal. Nothing was permanent because nothing was supposed to be permanent.

He told you all of this the night he told you he loved you, which you found out later was not a coincidence because he'd been rehearsing it in his head for weeks. You were in his backyard and it was getting cold and neither of you had bothered to go inside, and you'd asked him half jokingly, if he still thought love was just chemistry, like dopamine, oxytocin, all the stuff he used to bring up whenever the topic came up. He thought about it for a while, and then he said, "I think about the math."

"What do you mean by math?" you asked.

"You know. The odds of us both existing right now, at the same time, on the same planet." You didn't say anything, just waited, because you could tell he was going somewhere with it. "Okay, so — the universe is 13.8 billion years old, right," he said, looking up at the sky. "Earth is about 4.5 billion. Life on this planet has been around for something like 3.7 billion years. And humans have only existed for about 300,000 years." He paused. "If you do the math on that, all of human history put together like every war or civilization — comes out to something like 0.000002% of the universe's lifetime. It's basically nothing, a rounding error, actually."

"That's scary," you said, but you were smiling, because you could tell it wasn't where he was going.

"It's not, though," he said. "That's the thing. I used to find that comforting. Like, if everything I am and everything I do amounts to almost nothing on that scale, then none of it has to be a big deal." He shrugged. "I liked that."

"What changed then?"

"You." He said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "And for someone who's spent his whole life thinking everything has an answer, there are questions I have about you that I can't solve. Like, I know how stars form and I know how galaxies move, and I still don't know how, or when, or why I fell for you."

You felt something in your chest shift, your eyes wet, but you didn't say anything yet because you wanted him to keep going, and he did. "And I get it," he continued, and you could tell his heart was going faster now, that this part was harder. "I get being scared. I'm terrified most of the time — of saying the wrong thing, of not knowing how to do this—" he gestured between the two of you, "—but I'd rather be terrified and honest than safe and nowhere."

You stared at him, while a stubborn tear ran down your cheek, "And I'm — god, I'm jealous of you," he said, the words coming faster now. "Of the way you feel things so easily. The way you just let yourself experience stuff without trying to explain it first. I've spent my whole life trying to make everything make sense, and you don't do that, you just — exist in it. And it's beautiful. You're beautiful." he stopped, flustered, started again.

"So when you ask if I still think it's just chemistry," he said, quieter now, "I think about the probability of us both existing right now, in this exact moment. Humans have been around for 300,000 years and you and I get maybe eighty years each, if we're lucky. Do the math on that and it comes out to something like 0.00000058% of the universe's entire lifetime. And somehow, in that fraction of a fraction, we're both here on the same planet at the exact same time."

His voice cracked, just slightly, on the last part.

"And when I think about that — about how unlikely it is that I get to exist on Earth at the same time as you. And I'm scared of it, because if the universe only gave us this much time, then you deserve to spend it happy. And I want to make you happy."

The tears that had been building finally spilled over, and you didn't wipe them away. "No one's ever said anything like that to me before," you whispered.

"It's just math," Heeseung said, almost apologetic, like he was embarrassed by how much of himself he'd just handed over.

"No," you said, laughing through the tears. "You make it sound beautiful."

He looked at you for a second, like he was deciding whether to say the next thing. Then he said it anyway. "You make everything beautiful."

Sometimes he'd imagine a future and it felt precarious and unstable. Would you be there with him? Would you want to be? But who was he to say? He wasn't a computer. He couldn't run the simulation a thousand times and find the outcome with the highest probability of success. Was it a crime to not have the answers? In physics, uncertainty was a principle, but in life, people seemed to expect certainty and confidence. And Heeseung had neither.

Maybe one day things would make sense. Maybe he'd understand what you saw in him, if you saw anything at all. Maybe you'd get married, build a life, exist in the same space for longer than this brief cosmic moment. He'd probably take these thoughts to the grave, but somewhere, in the parts of himself he didn't like to examine, he knew something else too: he'd love you always. Or at least, he thought he would.

So when you'd said it back, that you loved him too, that you wanted this, whatever this was going to turn out to be, distance and uncertainty and all of it — Heeseung didn't think he'd ever been that happy in his life. He just remembers standing there in the cold with you and feeling like something had clicked into place.

Neither of you had any idea what you were actually signing up for. You said it like it was simple and it felt simple that night, because you were both standing in the same place and the distance was just an idea. You didn't know yet what it would feel like to want to tell someone something at eleven at night and have to wait until morning because of the time difference. You didn't know what it would feel like to watch someone's flight status app for two hours because their plane was delayed and you couldn't do anything about it from where you were. You didn't know that missing someone could become a baseline, something you got used to without it ever actually going away.

But you made it work, in an unglamorous way that long distance actually works. You learned each other's schedules down to the hour like when he was done with practice, when you were free for lunch, the three hour window every day where your awake times actually overlapped and you protected that window like it was sacred. He'd call you on his walk home so the time wasn't wasted on nothing. You'd eat dinner with your laptop propped up so he could "be there," even though being there meant a slightly pixelated version of him eating ramyeon at his kitchen counter while you ate whatever you'd thrown together, and somehow that still counted as a date, and somehow it actually felt like one.

Heeseung got good at little things. He'd send you a photo of the sky at golden hour with no caption because he knew you'd be waking up to it, he was handing you the start of your day before he went to sleep. He'd leave voice messages instead of texts, just rambling about his day, and you'd listen to them on your commute and it would feel like he was right there talking to you, which he kind of was, just delayed.

He said things to you over those months that he never thought he'd say to anyone. He told you once, half asleep on a call at like 2 a.m. his time, "I like falling asleep on the phone with you more than I like falling asleep in silence, and that used to be my favorite part of the day." You'd laughed and told him that was the saddest compliment you'd ever gotten and he'd said, "no, I mean it, I used to look forward to the quiet. Now I look forward to you."

He told you, after a video call where you'd been having a bad day and cried a little and he couldn't do anything except be on the other side of a screen, "I hate that I can't just be there. But I'm glad you let me see it anyway. I don't want the version of you that's only okay."

He'd say things like "I keep thinking about what you'd think of this" about completely mundane stuff like a building, a song, a weird thing someone said on the subway, and you started doing the same thing, narrating your day to him in your head even when he wasn't there, because somewhere along the way he'd become the person you processed your life through, even from across miles and miles away.

Funny enough, Heeseung felt exactly like that now too. He'd be walking somewhere and see something like a dog wearing a stupid little jacket, a sign with a typo, some guy arguing with a vending machine and the first thought was, automatic, before he could stop it, she'd think this was so funny. And then there'd be that second where he remembered he had nowhere to send it.

He wondered, sometimes, if he'd ever feel that again. He didn't know if that was a one time thing or if it could just happen again with someone else, eventually. He hoped it could, but he also kind of hoped it couldn't, which he knew didn't make sense.

And then he'd spiral a little, sometimes late at night — was any of it even worth it? But not in a bitter way. He didn't regret it, not even on the worst nights. But he'd lie there doing the math again, except this time the math wasn't comforting. He'd think about all those years and all that effort and flights and time zones, and where it had landed him: here, alone, missing someone he used to talk to every single day, and he'd think, what was the point of all of it, if this is where it ends up?

The distance had always hurt, that part wasn't new. But the distance used to have an end date like in two weekends or three weeks, whatever it was, there was always a number attached to it like a flight already booked and something to count down to. But this was different, this distance wasn't going to end in a reunion. It was just going to be the new permanent shape of things, and that took some getting used to, the idea that the ache wasn't temporary anymore, it was just what this was now.

For a long time, he'd actually felt kind of arrogant about it, looking back. He'd believed, fully, that the two of you could outlast the distance, like that it was a problem like any other problem, something you could just be diligent enough about and eventually it would stop being a problem at all. He used to think love was the kind of thing that just automatically solved logistics. And for years, it kind of had. You'd both shown up for it, over and over, and then, after everything, after years of doing exactly that, the distance won anyway.

The visits had been getting less frequent for a while, it was just life. He'd gotten busier with work, you'd gotten busier with yours. Your friend group needed you for things. His family needed him for things. The visits that used to happen every month started happening every couple months, and then less than that, and you both kept saying next time will be easier without either of you really believing it.

Then the first real conversation happened, you were on a call and you'd made some offhand comment like I miss when we used to see each other more, and he'd said, yeah, me too, and then there was a pause that went on a beat too long. "So what do we actually do about that," you said, eventually, but you weren't accusatory, you were just tired.

And neither of you had an answer, that was the thing. You both had real lives and not placeholder ones you were waiting to leave behind. He had his job, his friends, his family, a whole structure he'd built around himself in his city and you had the same, in yours. Moving wasn't simple for either of you and you both knew it, and neither of you wanted to be the one to ask the other to give theirs up because you both knew what that would actually cost, and you loved each other too much to want the other person to pay it.

People don't really talk about how love doesn't always mean being willing to give up everything for someone. Sometimes the healthiest version of loving someone is not doing that, even if it would feel more romantic in the moment. You'd both built lives that mattered, separately, before you'd built something together, and asking either of you to dismantle one for the other wasn't love.

After that, it wasn't one conversation, but it was a lot of small ones, spread out over months. There was a stupid fight about a missed call that wasn't really about the missed call. There was a conversation where you asked, carefully, if he'd ever consider relocating eventually, and he said maybe, someday, and you both heard how far away someday sounded. There was a night where he asked you the same question, in reverse, and got the same kind of answer.

You both just kept circling it, and there'd be a good week, where it felt normal again, where you'd talk like always and it would feel like maybe you'd just been in a rough patch. And then there'd be another conversation that didn't go anywhere, another what are we going to do that ended in the exact same place.

He took a few weeks off work over the holidays to visit you, since your birthday was a week before Christmas, and he'd booked the trip around it months in advance so he could be there for it and for Christmas with your family and ring in the new year together too. You both just kind of needed it, even if you both already knew, somewhere underneath, that it might not turn out the way either of you had pictured when he'd booked the flight.

It started fine, better than fine, actually, for the first couple of days. You picked him up from the airport like you always did, and he hugged you the way he always did, and for a few hours it felt like nothing had changed and nothing would change. Your birthday came first, and he'd remembered everything, and for that whole day it really did feel like nothing was wrong. Then there was Christmas, and you took him to see your family, and your mom made too much food like she always did, and your dad asked him about work and Heeseung answered like he always did. Your nephew still asked him to play video games and he still let him win even though you both knew he wasn't actually trying, like he always did.

You did all the things you always did. The same coffee place. The same walk along the river you always ended up on. You went to the bookstore he liked, the one with the cat that ignored everyone but him, and he bought a book he probably wouldn't read and you both knew that too.

But underneath the whole week, there was something different, nothing either of you could point to. Just a silence that hadn't used to be there in between the normal stuff. A few times you caught him looking at you in a way that felt like he was trying to memorize something. A few times you did the same thing.

New Year's came and went quietly as you watched the countdown from your living room, and he kissed you at midnight the way he always did, and neither of you said anything about how it felt different this time, like you were both carrying something into the new year that you hadn't carried into the last one. The second night of the new year — his last night before he flew back — you were on the couch at your place, some movie on that neither of you had picked for any real reason, just something to have on, and neither of you was watching it. You were sitting close, his arm around you, and at some point you just started crying quietly. You didn't make any noise about it, didn't want to, but he noticed it the way you do when you know someone's body that well.

He sat up a little straighter and turned toward you, careful, and put his hand on the side of your face, his thumb just resting there. "Hey," he said, quiet. "Hey. What's wrong?"

You looked at him and you didn't say anything for a moment. Then you said, "I don't know if this is going to be the last time we do this."

He didn't say anything right away. He let out a long breath like he was trying to hold something back, and he couldn't, his eyes filled up too and he didn't wipe them. "I don't know either," he said. "And that scares me."

You looked at him. "I know I've asked this so many times already," you said, "but what do we do?"

"I don't know," he said. "I don't know what to do."

"I don't either," you said.

And that was the thing that broke it open. You both just started crying properly, and you didn't care about being quiet anymore, and he pulled you in and held onto you like he was trying to keep something from slipping through his hands. "I love you so much," he said into your hair, his voice not really working right. "I don't want to let you go."

You pulled back enough to look at him, and you reached up and wiped the tears off his face with your thumb. "You need to love me less now, baby," you said.

"I don't think I can," he said.

"But you have to," you said. And you weren't saying it to hurt him, you said it like it was the only kind thing left to say.

It went quiet for a while after that. Just the movie still playing, both of you sitting there with your faces wet and your hands still holding onto each other. "Is there a way we can make this work?" he asked eventually. Not like he believed there was an answer, just like he had to ask it one more time, for both of you.

"We already did," you said. "We made it work. For years, we made it work." You looked at him. "And I don't want to be here to see when it stops working."

He closed his eyes. He leaned his head down onto your shoulder, his whole body curving toward you, and he said, barely above a whisper, "I've never felt this much pain before."

You rested your head against the top of his, and you said, "Me neither."

And you both just sat there like that, holding on, for a long time, not because either of you thought it would change anything. Just because you both needed a little more time before it stopped being something you got to do.

Growing up, you thought grief was a word that belonged to death. That's how it was always used in books and movies, at least. You'd see characters in black and slow piano music, someone staring out a window, and you understood that this was what grief looked like and that it only happened when someone died. You later found out that grief is actually just the word for what happens when you lose something that mattered to you. You can grieve a person who's still alive, still texting other people, still posting pictures, still existing in the world, but just not in your world anymore. You can grieve a version of your life that didn't happen. You can even grieve a job you lost. You can grieve a future you'd already started building in your head, and none of that requires a death. It just requires losing something.

Movies get some of it right. You personally enjoyed Past Lives because gets a lot of it right, actually, like that scene at the end, when the two of them are standing on the curb waiting for the car. Nora says something about how if she'd stayed, if things had gone differently, she wonders who she would have been, and that line stuck with you because it's not really about him. It's about grieving a version of yourself that only existed in a timeline that didn't happen. The you that would've existed if things had gone differently. You'll never meet her.

But movies also get a lot of it wrong, or at least incomplete as if they compress it. Grief in a movie happens in maybe a montage with sad song and rain, a few weeks pass in a cut, just like that one Bella scene in her bedroom in New Moon. Real grief doesn't have edits, though. It just keeps going in real time and there's no soundtrack.

Joan Didion wrote about grief after her husband died, about how she kept his shoes because some part of her brain hadn't accepted that he wasn't going to need them again. She talks about how grief isn't a thing you process and finish, it's a thing that ambushes you, again and again. You read that book a long time ago and thought it was about death specifically, but you understand it differently now, especially the ambush part. It doesn't ask permission, it just arrives, when you're listening to a song, or an specific smell, and you're back at the beginning again.

You grieved all of your firsts. The first kiss on the curb outside your building after the festival, you crying before it even happened because some part of you already knew how hard it would be to let him go the next morning, but you'd jumped in anyway. You remembered thinking, right before, this is going to complicate everything but I'm doing it anyway, because by that point not doing it felt like the bigger risk. The first time he said he loved you at his backyard and the conversation after, the one where you both actually decided that this was going to be a real thing now. You remembered how light you'd felt afterward, like something had been settled.

You remember the first proper date, where he'd called ahead of a visit and said, let me take you out on a date, like he wanted to do it right. You went to a café in the afternoon, then a movie — Joker, which he'd picked, and which you ended up loving way more than you expected. "You're being weirdly into this," he said. "This is giving me incel girlfriend energy." You'd hit his arm and said "shut up, it was good," and he just kept laughing the whole walk out of the theater, occasionally muttering "Arthur Fleck did nothing wrong" under his breath in a voice clearly imitating you, even though you'd said no such thing.

Then you ended up at a bar afterward, way later than either of you meant to, drinking beer and laughing about nothing, and at some point it turned into one of those nights where you just kept going back and forth, building on each other's jokes the way you always did. "Honestly," he said, leaning back, "now that you're my incel girlfriend, I gotta be careful. Don't want to accidentally get red pilled by association."

"You're the red pilled one, Heeseung, what the hell are you on," you said, laughing. "You like Neon Genesis Evangelion. That's literally the most incel anime ever."

"That's a masterpiece of animation and you know it."

"That's what they all say." He waved the waiter down and asked, completely seriously, if he could borrow a pen. You raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing?"

"We need to write all of this down," he said, already scribbling on a napkin. "Every inside joke we have. We're gonna lose track otherwise."

So you did, you spent probably an hour just going back through everything, all the bits you'd built up, laughing harder at some of them out loud than you had the first time, because hearing them said back to you made them funnier somehow. The incel girlfriend thing. The thing about his cousin's wedding band. A whole bit about a typo he'd made once that had become a permanent part of your vocabulary. By the end the napkin was full on both sides and completely illegible, and neither of you could read half of what he'd written, which somehow made it even funnier.

For your one year anniversary, you actually made a real little book with every inside joke you could remember, written out properly with little doodles next to some of them. You gave it to him and he read through the whole thing slowly, laughing at some pages, going quiet at others, and at the end he just looked at you for a second like he didn't totally know what to say, and then said, "this is the best thing anyone's ever given me," and he wasn't joking.

There was a version of this where you tried to explain it to people and it never quite landed right, because what you had with him didn't fit the categories people usually used. Boyfriend was true, technically, but it always felt like it was missing something. The truer thing you'd have said if you weren't worried about how it sounded, was that he was your best friend. The person you'd call first, the person whose opinion you actually wanted before you made a decision, the person you trusted completely with everything, including the parts of yourself you usually kept tucked away.

People talk about friendships turning into relationships like it's this dramatic slow burn shift, some kind of line you cross, but it never felt like that with you two. It felt more like nothing changed and everything changed at the same time. You still talked the same way, you still made fun of each other the same way, you still told each other things you wouldn't tell anyone else, except now you also got to kiss him, which honestly felt like a bonus.

That's why it was so light. Not in the sense of unimportant but in the sense of having no extra weight on it and no performance or anxiety about whether you were doing it right. A lot of relationships you'd seen, and even some you'd been in, had this undercurrent of tension running through them but you never had that with Heeseung. Even with the distance, you almost never felt jealous and neither did he, and it wasn't because either of you was trying hard not to be, it just genuinely didn't come up. You trusted him completely in this almost boring way, and he trusted you the same way. There was nothing to manage, because there was nothing either of you was worried about. The only thing that was ever actually hard was the physical distance itself but never the relationship.

You used to think that was rare, even back then, even before you had any sense of how it would end. You'd hear friends talk about their relationships with all the games, and you'd feel almost guilty that you didn't have any of that to contribute. What you had instead was just ease — he was your best friend who you also happened to be in love with, and being in love with your best friend turned out to be the most uncomplicated thing in the world, right up until it wasn't anymore. Except even then, even at the very end, that part of it never broke because you never stopped being each other's best friend. That might have been the hardest part of all of it, actually. You didn't just lose a boyfriend. You lost your best friend too, and there was no version of moving on that got you that part back.

Even though every time you told him he was your best friend, he'd fire back, completely straight faced but jokingly, "no, Jake's my best friend. Know your place," and you'd laugh every single time, no matter how many times he'd done the bit — and you grieved that too, the fact that you'd never hear it again in that specific voice over that specific dumb thing.

And then, you also grieved the moment you were intimate for the first time.

It was on the weekend when he first came to visit because of that festival. One of those afternoons you'd taken an everything shower, scrub, shave, lotion, the nice perfume you almost never wore and you felt ridiculous doing it. He was your best friend. You'd talked everyday, shared everything, there was no reason to be nervous around him. But the old stuff was still there, the quiet insecurities left over from people who hadn't been careful with you like he was. Your hands shook a little when you dried your hair. You told yourself it was stupid but it didn't stop the feeling.

That night, after you cried on the curb outside your building before he even kissed you, you went upstairs with him. The second the apartment door closed, the air changed. He looked at you like he already knew the next visit was months away. You barely made it to the couch. He kissed you carefully at first, almost reverent, his hands cupping your face, then the kisses grew deeper and slower, like he couldn’t help himself. He leaned over you and you softened under him, and it felt different from anything you'd known. This wasn't just want, it was like every cell in you pulled toward him. He hadn't said the words out loud yet, but you could feel it in the way he touched you. He already loved you. You already loved him.

You let out a small sound against his mouth, almost a whimper. He pulled back just enough to breathe, forehead against yours, and you felt him hard then, pressing against your thigh through his jeans, embarrassingly obvious. The realization made heat rush through you and another soft moan slipped out before you could stop it. He exhaled sharply. "Don't do that," he murmured, voice rough, "or I'm not gonna be able to control myself."

You looked up at him, heart hammering, and said the only thing that felt true. "Please don't control yourself."

He kissed you again harder, then stood and lifted you, and your legs wrapped around him. He carried you to your bed and laid you down carefully,and he sat on the edge of the bed for a second, just looking at you. His eyes moved over your face, your neck, the rise of your chest under your shirt. "You're so fucking beautiful," he said quietly, almost to himself. Then he leaned down and kissed you again, slow and deep, before his hands found the hem of your blouse. He pulled it up gently, pausing when he reached your ribs so you could lift your arms. The fabric slipped over your head and he dropped it somewhere on the floor.

His gaze stayed on you, just taking you in. "God," he breathed, fingers tracing the line of your collarbone. "I've thought about this so many times. You have no idea." He said it like a confession, like he still couldn't quite believe he was allowed to touch you.

He kissed your neck, open mouthed, and you felt yourself arch while he moved lower, his lips brushing over the tops of your breasts, and your fingers threading through his hair. He unhooked your bra with both hands, sliding the straps down your shoulders, and the cool air hit your skin and then his mouth was there, soft and warm. He kissed one breast, then the other, like he had all the time in the world even though you both knew he didn't.

He kept going lower, lips brushing over your ribs, then your stomach and he stayed there for a moment, forehead resting just below your belly button, breathing you in. "Can I take these off?" he asked, fingers already at the waistband of your pants. His voice was low, but you could see the nerves in the way his hands trembled just slightly. He was being more direct than you'd imagined he would be, saying exactly what he wanted, and it made something hot twist low in your belly.

"Yeah," you whispered.

He pulled your pants down your legs carefully, eyes following the movement. Once they were off, he sat back for a second and tugged his own shirt over his head. The sight of his bare chest, the way his skin looked made your mouth go dry. He leaned down again, pressing his whole upper body against yours, skin on skin, and the warmth of him was overwhelming. He kissed you deep and you felt like you could drown in it.

Then he moved lower again, kissing the inside of one thigh, then the other, slowly. When he reached the center, he pressed a kiss right over your panties. He inhaled, slow and deep, and let out a quiet sound that made your cheeks burn. "You okay?" he asked, looking up at you. His eyes were dark, but the concern was still there reassuring.

You nodded quickly, hips shifting toward him without meaning to. "Yeah. Please."

He hooked a finger under the edge of your panties and pulled them to the side. "Fuck… you're so wet," he murmured, almost reverent. "Is this all for me?"

You let out a shaky smirk, trying to keep some control. "Obviously."

"Yeah?" His voice dropped even lower, then his mouth was on you. The first slow lick pulled a broken sound from your throat. He took his time at first, learning you, but the more you reacted, the more sure he got. He licked and sucked with a focused hunger that made your head spin. Your hands fisted the sheets and his hair, trying to stay grounded.

"Heeseung… oh my god," you moaned. He groaned against you, the vibration shooting straight through your body. One of his hands moved down to palm himself through his jeans, like tasting you was driving him crazy too.

You tried to hold back, but it was impossible. The tension built fast and sharp. He felt the way your thighs started to shake around his head, and he went faster and more insistent, mouth working you like he needed you to come for him. When it hit, it crashed over you hard. Your back arched, a loud moan tearing from your chest as you came, pulsing against his tongue. He kept going through it gentler now until you were panting and trembling.

He kissed his way back up your body, kissing your stomach, ribs, the valley between your breasts until he reached your mouth. His lips were slick, and the taste of yourself on him made your head spin. "Are you okay, baby?" he asked while brushing hair out of your face.

"More than okay," you breathed. You pulled him down into another kiss, deep and messy, while your hand slid down between you to palm him through his pants. He was rock hard, straining against the fabric. The groan he let out against your mouth went straight to your core.

"We don't have to keep going if you don't want to," he said, voice strained, "or if you're tired."

You smirked, suddenly feeling bolder, dirtier. "I would never be tired. I want you, Hee."

You pushed at his shoulders gently and he let you flip him onto his back. You straddled him, and started kissing down his chest, his stomach, taking your time the same way he had. But you let a hungrier side of yourself show, the one that felt safe enough with him to be a little shameless. You mouthed at him through his pants, looked up at him while you did it and watched his eyes flutter. He looked wrecked already, breathing hard, one hand reaching down to touch your hair like he couldn't believe this was real.

You kept teasing him like that, pressing open mouthed kisses along the hard line of him, breathing warm against the fabric until his hips twitched up toward your mouth. His hand tightened in your hair, and you finally hooked your fingers into his waistband and looked up at him. He lifted his hips to help you drag his pants and underwear down together. When he sprang free, you took a second just to look at him hard and flushed, leaking a little at the tip. The sight made your mouth water.

He let out a low chuckle, half breathless. "Holy shit… you're actually a little dangerous, aren't you?"

You smirked up at him. "You'll see."

You leaned down and took him into your mouth slowly, tasting him and learning the weight of him on your tongue. He groaned deep in his chest, the sound raw while his hand stayed in your hair. "Yes… right there," he breathed, voice wrecked. "Fuck, you're doing such a good job. Just like that."

You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, and he cursed under his breath, hips jerking a little before he caught himself. He looked completely lost with his eyes half closed and his lips parted, chest rising fast. Before long his grip tightened and he gently tugged you back by the hair. "Wait," he panted, "I don't wanna bust too soon."

You laughed softly and kissed the inside of his thigh. "I don't mind. I want to make you feel good."

He pulled you up and kissed you hard, hands sliding down your back like he needed to hold all of you at once. While you sat on the edge of the bed catching your breath, he reached for his jeans on the floor, dug through the pocket for his wallet, and found the condom. You watched him the whole time, the ordinary little movements somehow making everything feel even more real. He came back to you and rolled it on quickly, then looked at you with something almost reverent in his eyes. "You're so, so perfect," he said quietly, and kissed you again.

You guided him to sit up against the headboard and straddled him again. While he finished with the condom, you reached down and slipped your panties all the way off, tossing them aside. His hands moved over you immediately cupping your breasts and then sliding down your waist, gripping your hips. "Look at you," he murmured. "So fucking beautiful. I can't believe you're mine right now."

You braced your hands on his shoulders and slowly sank down onto him. The stretch was intense, perfect. Both of you gasped at the same time. When he bottomed out you stayed there for a second with your foreheads pressed together. You started moving, rolling your hips, and he met every movement with small thrusts up into you. The sounds in the room were just skin, breath, and moans. "Fuck, that's it," he whispered, one hand on your hip guiding you, the other tangled in your hair. "Ride me just like that. You're so wet… shit."

You picked up the pace as you were rolling faster and taking him deeper each time. You leaned closer, lips brushing his ear. "You feel so good inside of me," you breathed, the words slipping out raw. "So fucking good, Heeseung."

He groaned and his hands slid down to grip your ass, squeezing hard. He bit his lip, eyes screwed shut for a second. "Fuck… I don't think I'm gonna last," he managed to say.

You could feel him trying to hold back, his thrusts getting a little more careful. You kissed along his jawline softly and then murmured against his skin, "It's okay, Hee. You can cum for me."

That was all it took. He let out a low groan that turned into a moan of your name as he came hard inside you. His hips stuttered up into yours and his arms wrapped tight around your waist, holding you down against him while he rode it out. For a moment everything was just his shaky breath and the way his body trembled under yours.

He stayed like that for a few seconds, panting against your neck, then pulled you into a full hug, bare chest to bare chest. He kissed your forehead, then your temple. "I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered, sounding genuinely embarrassed. "I couldn't hold it. Just… give me a minute to recover and we can keep going. I promise."

You let out a soft laugh and pulled back just enough to look at him. His face was flushed and his hair was messy, his eyes still a little dazed. You brushed a strand away from his forehead. "It's okay," you said gently. "We have all the time in the world."

The words made something shift in his expression. His heart squeezed tight because he knew it wasn’t really true since he was leaving the next morning. But he didn’t say any of that, instead, he kissed you again. When you pulled back, you stayed there straddling him, just looking at him. Your hands rested on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slowly settle. He looked up at you with an open expression he only ever had with you, thumb gently stroking your lower back.

"God, I love the way you look at me," he said quietly, almost like he was talking to himself. He reached up and cupped your face with both hands, pulling you down for another kiss but this one was sweeter. When he broke it, he kept his forehead against yours.

You woke up early the morning after, both of you, neither of you having really slept much. Heeseung had a flight to catch back to his actual life that existed outside of this weekend, and you got up and got dressed and drove him to the airport in a comfortable kind of quiet, the radio on low, his hand resting on your knee the whole way. At the airport you stayed with him through check in, standing next to him at the counter, double checking if he had his passport, making sure his bag wasn't over the weight limit. He kept looking over at you while he did it, like he was checking you were still there.

You had time before his gate, so you got ice cream from one of the little kiosks. You ordered something and ate maybe a third of it because you weren't really hungry. He noticed and didn't say anything about it, just finished his own and then quietly ate some of yours too. You sat near his gate for a while. He had your hand the whole time. When his boarding group got called, he stood up and you stood up with him, and he looked at you for a second before either of you said anything.

"Hey," he said. "You know you're not getting rid of me that easily, right?"

You laughed a little wet, wiping under your eyes. "I know."

"I mean it," he said.

"I know, Heeseung," you said. "It just sucks saying bye to you anyway."

"Yeah, it does," he said, and pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping all the way around you, and you put your head against his chest and he ran his hand over your hair, and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Then he pulled back just enough to make you look up at him. "I'll be back," he said. "And we'll figure it out, okay?" You nodded. "Smile for me. I don't want to see you sad before I go."

You smiled, even though your eyes were still full, and he smiled back like that was exactly what he needed. He kissed you once more, and then picked up his bag and walked toward the gate. He looked back once right before he went through, and you saw the way his jaw tightened, the way he was clearly holding something back too. For one second he looked like he was actually considering turning around and walking back, leaving the flight behind entirely. Then he gave you a small wave, and went through.

That day had been bittersweet, the kind of sad that still had something good to look forward to. You drove home that day still feeling sad but lighter than you'd expected, because there was a next time attached to it. There always had been, every time, for years.

The last time was different.

The drive to the airport was the same as it always was with you behind the wheel and him in the passenger seat, the same roads you'd driven a dozen times. The airport was busy since it was the first week of January, and you walked with him to check in like you always did, stood next to him while he handled his bag like you always did, made sure everything was in order, the same as every other time, like you always did. Except this was the last time you'd ever do this.

Your face was swollen from crying the night before, you both were actually, neither of you had slept and neither of you had bothered trying to hide it from each other that morning. But he still held your hand the whole walk to security, the same way he always did like nothing had changed, even though everything had.

You got close to the gate and neither of you said much. There wasn't really anything left to say that hadn't already been said the night before. You just stood there, and at some point he pulled you in, and you both just held onto each other and cried properly for a long time, not caring who saw.

"I'm always going to love you," he said into your hair, his voice breaking on it.

"I'm always going to love you too," you said.

He held onto you a little longer after that like he was trying to make it last, and then he pulled back and wiped his face, and you wiped yours, and there wasn't anything left to do except let him go through the gate.

For him, walking through that door was the worst pain he'd ever felt, worse than anything, worse than he'd known a person could feel, walking away from someone while every part of him wanted to turn around and not get on the plane at all, and knowing he was going to do it anyway because there wasn't another option left. For you, watching him walk through it was the worst pain you'd ever felt — watching his back disappear, knowing this was the last time, with no next time attached to it, nothing waiting on the other side of this except the rest of your life without him in it.

You both stood on opposite sides of that door for a moment, in the worst pain of your lives, at exactly the same time, in exactly the same place, the way you'd always somehow ended up.

You'd think, looking back, that the day at the airport was the worst of it, but the actual worst day was the one after. You'd told yourself you could do this on your own because you were an adult. You had your own apartment and your own life and your own ways of dealing with things, except none of that turned out to be true, not that day. What you actually did was drive to your parents' house and you walked in and your mom took one look at you and didn't even ask, just opened her arms, and you fell into them and cried in a way you hadn't cried since you were small.

Your mom held you and kept saying "okay, okay, it's okay," but you could tell she was a little alarmed by how much was coming out of you, like she hadn't known a person could cry that much for that long and that loudly. You weren't embarrassed, though. You'd spent your whole adult life being a little embarrassed by big emotions in front of people, even your mom, but that day you just let it all out, the way a kid does with no filter, just pure unfiltered grief taking up all the space.

At some point, you became aware of where you were. This was the house you grew up in. The same house on the same street, where you'd met Heeseung for the first time, more than a decade ago now. You tried not to think about it, you really did but it came anyway.

You were eleven and you'd been playing some version of hide and seek with the other kids on the street, and Beomgyu, one of the neighborhood kids, showed up with this kid you'd never seen before and introduced him as his cousin. You were wearing an Eevee shirt and you remember that specifically, because the first thing Heeseung said to you after Beomgyu introduced him, was, "do you like Pokémon?"

"Yeah," you'd said.

"Every girl likes Eevee," he said, like it was just a fact.

You remember being instantly annoyed. "Yeah, I love Eevee. You have a problem with that?" you'd said, hands on your hips, eleven years old and ready to fight about it.

"No, no," he said quickly, holding his hands up. "I'm just saying." And even then, even as a dumb kid who'd clearly just said something dumb, there was this flicker of him being careful like he didn't want you to take it the wrong way.

He told you his favorite was Gengar. You shot back, "every boy likes Gengar," and that felt like a very satisfying thing to say.

"My friends mostly like Charizard," he said.

"Everyone likes Charizard," you said.

"I pulled a shiny Charizard once," he said, like that changed everything.

"No you didn't," you said.

"Yes I did."

"Then where is it?"

"It's at my house."

"Let's go get it then."

"I don't — I don't live here," he said. "I'm just visiting. Beomgyu's mom is my mom's cousin."

"Oh," you'd said. And even then something in you had felt a kind of disappointment, this quiet little fact landing somewhere: he's not going to be here whenever I want him to be. You didn't know what to do with that feeling, so you didn't do anything with it, you just kept playing.

You remembered that feeling now, lying there on your mom's couch, feeling like that same eleven-year-old, except this time you knew exactly what it meant. Heeseung wasn't going to be here whenever you wanted him to be. Not this summer. Not any summer. Not ever again.

And even though, in those first weeks, you'd been completely sure you'd never get past it and that this pain was just going to be the new permanent shape of your life — one day, months later, you woke up and didn't think about Heeseung first thing.

You were running late for work, actually, which was probably part of it because there wasn't time to lie in bed and feel anything before you had to move. You got dressed fast, caught the train, put your headphones in, read a few pages of your book. Work was normal, you laughed at something a coworker said. You went to lunch with one of your friends from the office and had something genuinely good. You went home, watched an episode of the show you were into at the time, had a glass of wine, and went to bed. And that whole day, for the first time, you hadn't thought about Heeseung not even once. And the strange part was that you hadn't noticed not noticing.

The next day went the same way mostly, until someone at work mentioned they'd seen Joker 2, the one with Lady Gaga, and that it had been terrible. And just like that, you thought of him. And it hurt the way it had hurt the day it happened, like no time had passed at all.

You sat there for a second, kind of stunned by it, and then you realized something else: it had been a while since you'd felt that specific ache of missing him. You'd gone — what, a day? Two days? — without it, and you hadn't even clocked it as an absence until it came back. The thing that struck you was that some part of you had actually missed it. Not only him, but you'd missed the missing. You'd gotten so used to carrying that weight that his absence had felt like its own kind of absence, and its return felt almost like coming home to something, even though it hurt.

C.S. Lewis wrote about grief in A Grief Observed, something about how sorrow turns out not to be a state but a process but more like a long valley with bends in it, and every time you turn a corner you think the road has changed completely, but then you look back and realize the shape of the landscape is still the same, you've just gotten used to walking through it. That felt true now in a way it hadn't before because the pain hadn't gone anywhere. You'd just stopped noticing it was there, and then, when it changes, even for a second, you remember — oh, yeah. That happened.

You weren't sure if that meant you were healing or if it just meant you'd made peace with the ache itself, or maybe learned how to live alongside it instead of waiting for it to leave. Maybe those weren't the same thing, you didn't know yet. But you sat there with your coffee going cold, missing him in that old familiar way.

Heeseung had never had to move on from anything before. So every piece of advice he got, every thing his friends said, all of it assumed he knew the shape of this, that he just needed reminders of a process he'd been through before and would get through it again. But he hadn't, he had no reference point. He was just kind of stumbling through it and figuring out the rules as he went, the way you do anything you're experiencing for the first time as an adult.

For a long time every day felt like the same day but just repeated. Bad but in slightly different ways, but always bad and always present the second he woke up. And then, one day, it just wasn't. He didn't notice it happening, just like you. He woke up and went for a run, because Sunghoon convinced him running was supposed to help with everything, and he actually felt good after, and not "fine, considering," just normal good. He showered and made breakfast, had a video call with Jay about something stupid and they ended up talking for an hour about nothing important and Heeseung laughed. He worked, went out with Jake and Sunoo that night and had a genuinely good time with no asterisk on it.

He went to bed that night and felt good. It felt weird feeling good. Then he realized that he hadn't thought about you all day, not once. He lay there almost waiting for that to upset him, like maybe realizing it would bring it all back, but it didn't, really. He just felt this strange quiet thing on his chest, it wasn't happiness, definitely wasn't happiness, but something close to relief.

The next few days were okay too. Not perfect but the baseline had shifted somehow. He started to think, cautiously, that maybe this was it. Maybe this was what people meant on what moving on feels like. Maybe he was actually getting somewhere. And then there'd be a bad day again out of nowhere, just a monday that felt exactly like the worst weeks all over again, like none of the good days had happened at all. He'd lie there wondering if he'd imagined the progress, if it had been a fluke, if he was back at square one.

He'd pictured it, before, as a kind of slope. Bad, then less bad, then less bad than that, steadily, like a graph trending in one direction. That's not what it was, it was more like weather. Good days and bad days just like rainy days and sunny days, no pattern and no schedule, and the good days didn't cancel out the bad ones and the bad ones didn't erase the good ones either. They just both existed taking turns.

Heeseung found that he could hold both at the same time, eventually — that he could think about you, about the years and the calls and the airport goodbyes and feel something warm about it and something sad about it in the exact same thought. He wasn't sure if that was what moving on actually meant. Maybe moving on wasn't about the bad days disappearing. Maybe it was just about being able to hold the good and the bad without it knocking him over anymore. He didn't know if he was there yet. But some days, increasingly, he thought he might be getting close.

Years went by, the way years do. You still followed each other on social media, but muted. Neither of you unfollowed each other but neither of you really engaged either, beyond the one thing neither of you ever stopped doing: a birthday message. You knew that for the rest of your life, probably, on October 15th, some part of your brain would just know — it's Heeseung's birthday — whether you wanted it to or not. You weren't sure if he'd remember yours the same way since yours was buried in the Christmas week, easy to lose in everything else going on, and you figured if anyone had a reason to forget, it'd be understandable. But Heeseung never forgot. Every year, a message would show up, sometimes with something small attached, maybe a joke or a reference only the two of you would get. You always answered. He always did too, on his.

He changed jobs. His brother had a kid. You moved apartments. You changed your car. You broke your thumb and it hurt like hell. You changed your hair more than once — the pink eventually grew out, and then came back, and then grew out again. You went to Paris for a week with friends and posted way too many photos of the Eiffel Tower. He went to China for something work related and you saw, through someone, that he'd looked happy in the pictures.

You dated someone eventually, a couple of years in. It ended badly actually, messier than you'd have liked, an ending with real anger and real hurt feelings on both sides. But it didn't break you the way you might have once expected something like that to. It hurt, and then it stopped hurting on a fairly normal timeline, and somewhere in the middle of it you realized something almost funny: this wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to you, not even close. You'd already had the worst thing. You'd survived the worst thing. Whatever this was, you already knew you could get through it, because you'd gotten through something so much bigger already. Heeseung had been the big one. Everything after that, you could handle.

He found someone too, eventually. You've heard he's still with her, years later, and that they seem happy. You didn't feel anything bad about that. You'd thought, at some point, that you might — that hearing it would hurt, but it didn't. If anything, it felt right. That was what he deserved. You meant that, plainly.

Then one day, there was an announcement that Oasis, the band you'd been sure would never get back together, somehow getting back together. You got tickets and you went with a friend, a friend you'd gotten closer to over the past year, someone you still weren't entirely sure how to define, if you were being honest with yourself. You weren't sure what this thing between you two was yet, but you were still figuring it out.

At the show, you stood next to her, and at some point during one of the songs, she reached over and took your hand and you let her, and you stood there like that for the rest of the set. And you felt something settle, this unexpected relief. The thought arrived almost gently: maybe I can do this again. Maybe you weren't someone who'd only get to feel this once. There had been a long stretch where you'd genuinely wondered if you'd ever feel love again — not necessarily romantic, but that unguarded affection — and standing there, holding someone's hand listening to a song you'd loved, not even sure yet what it meant, you realized you were feeling it. Whatever this was, it was real and it was love in some form, and you loved her, regardless of what it eventually turned into. And it reminded you, distantly, of him.

And in the middle of that thought, you looked over. And there he was. A few rows over, watching the show, singing along with his arm around someone, her head resting against his shoulder, both of them completely in it, completely happy.

He'd found it too. He'd let himself love again. And it didn't hurt seeing him love someone else.

Heeseung had spent way too much time, once, thinking about how long it's supposed to take to get over a breakup. To get over you. He'd never gotten a real answer, maybe that was because it was the wrong question all along. Some loves aren't ones you get over. They're ones you get through, and what's left, on the other side, is not an absence — it's room. Room to love again, because you finally know you can.

ronnie notes ⊹ ࣪ ˖⠀⠀hi everyone!! i’ve actually been writing this one over the past three months and it’s not as long as the stories i usually post but it means a lot to me. i’m pretty sure some of you are going to yell at me after reading it because well !! it’s sad very sad..... this story is also a lot more personal than most things i’ve written before. there are a lot of emotions and experiences in here that came from things i was dealing with in real life. i started writing it during a period where i felt like i needed somewhere to put all of those feelings, so every time i was sad, overwhelmed, confused, or just trying to make sense of something, i ended up pouring a little bit of it into this fic. in a weird way, writing it helped me get through a lot of the things that were happening while i was away. so i hope you enjoy it.!! and as always, feedback is more than welcome. thank you for reading and for sticking around ♡

The Kingdom of Elias worshipped three things above all else. The Crown. The Gods. And bloodlines. In that order.

A noble's worth was measured by the name they carried. A shop owner’s worth was measured by how much he earned. A soldier’s worth was measured by victories.

And the daughter of a blacksmith? She was supposed to be worth nothing at all. Yet somehow, everyone in the kingdom knew your name.

Perhaps it was because your father never stopped talking about you. Or perhaps it was because people genuinely believed the old man's ridiculous claim.

"My daughter is the Moon Goddess reborn."

Every person in the capital had heard him say it. Every market vendor rolled their eyes whenever he brought it up. Every noble laughed.

Yet none of them could explain why the entire room always seemed brighter whenever you entered. None of them could explain why flowers bloomed unusually well around your home. None of them could explain why even the grumpiest villagers softened whenever you smiled at them.

Your father certainly couldn't. He simply crossed his arms proudly and declared that he was right. As always. "My daughter was blessed by the moon."

The man was impossible. Your brothers agreed. All four of them.

Unfortunately, that meant you had five overprotective men in your life. Your father. And your four older brothers. It was unbearable.

─ · ✿ · ─

"You're not going," your oldest brother, Seo-jun, shook his head.

"I am," you replied.

"You're not," Min-hyeok agreed. 

"Yes."

"No," Tae-rin patted your shoulder almost sympathetically even if he was disagreeing too. You glared across the breakfast table. Seo-jun glared back. The rest watched the argument unfold.

"I am attending Decelis Academy," you repeated.

"You're not," Ha-jun, your youngest brother, laughed as if your ideas of leaving where hilarious.

"I was accepted."

"You can reject it."

"I earned my place."

"You can still reject it."

You wanted to throw bread at him. Instead, you settled for kicking his shin under the table. He yelped. Victory.

Your father immediately pointed at him, "See? My angel-daughter has spoken."

"Dad."

"What?"

"You cannot keep calling me that."

"I absolutely can."

Your Tae-rin groaned and Min-hyeok rubbed his face. Seo-jun looked ready to jump out a window as Ha-jun simply laughed again- like he found your suffering funny. Your father remained completely serious.

"You were born under a full moon."

"Dad."

"The moonlight turned silver-" he continued.

"Dad."

"The village priest cried-"

"Dad."

"The cows started mooing-"

"The cows always moo!"

"I know." You buried your face in your hands and the table erupted into laughter. For a moment, warmth filled your home. For a moment, everything felt perfect.

Then your father spoke again, "Any boy who looks at my daughter loses his eyes." The warmth vanished immediately and- of course- all four brothers nodded. 

You stared at them in horror. "WHAT?"

"Reasonable," Seo-jun spoke.

"Completely reasonable," Min-hyeok nodded.

"Very reasonable," Tae-rin agreed.

"Honestly, we should take their hands too," Ha-jun suggested calmly.

You nearly choked, "No one is taking anyone's eyes!"

Your father snorted, "We'll negotiate, sweetheart."

"DAD!"

Unfortunately for you, they were only half joking. Unfortunately for every young man in the kingdom, they were only half joking. Because you were adored. Absolutely adored. And nowhere would that become more obvious than Decelis Academy.

─ · ✿ · ─

The buildings stood upon a mountain overlooking the capital. Ancient stone towers pierced the clouds. Silver 'WELCOME STUDENTS!' banners fluttered against the wind. Future rulers, generals, scholars and nobles studied within its walls.Only the kingdom's most talented students could attend. Which was why many nobles were furious about your acceptance.

A blacksmith's daughter. Among aristocrats. Among heirs. Among future lords.

Scandalous. You didn't care, you had worked too hard, studied too much, sacrificed too many nights. No one would take this from you, not even nobles- especially not nobles. The academy gates opened and students poured inside.

─ · ✿ · ─

Carriages lined the roads.

Expensive fabrics. Precious jewels. House crests. Power. Everywhere.

You adjusted your books, lifted your chin and walked forward.

Immediately, people stared. You ignored them. Then someone collided into you. Books crashed. Papers scattered. A groan followed.

"Watch where you're—" The stranger froze. You froze. The boy kneeling among scattered books looked around your age. Dark eyes. Handsome features. Expensive uniform.

Noble. Definitely noble. Unfortunately.

The boy stared. And stared. And stared.You frowned, "Are you alright?" No response. His mouth opened slightly. Still nothing. A second boy suddenly appeared. Then another. Then another. And another. And another. Until six other young men stood around him.

All nobles. All staring. You were beginning to feel concerned.

"What happened?" a boy with soft eyes and gentle asked. The kneeling boy pointed at you and you blinked as they looked at you. Silence. 

Then one of them whispered, "Oh."

Another whispered, "Definitely oh."

A third whispered, "Completely oh." You had no idea what was happening. Then the kneeling noble finally stood, his eyes never left yours. 

"Hello."

You raised an eyebrow, "Hello."

The silence returned. The other boys exchanged looks. One visibly fought laughter. Another looked horrified. A third pinched the bridge of his nose.

Finally, one sighed, "He's broken."

"What?"

"Completely broken." You blinked. The noble in front of you still hadn't looked away. He extended a hand.

"My name is Lee Heeseung." Something about the way he said it felt important, as though he expected recognition.

You simply shook his hand, "Nice to meet you, Heeseung."

His friends looked excited. Heeseung looked hopeful. You smiled politely. Then walked away.

The seven nobles remained frozen. Several moments passed. Finally, one spoke, "She doesn't know who you are."

Another burst into laughter. A third nearly fell over. Heeseung stood motionless. Completely devastated. Because for the first time in years— someone had treated him like an ordinary person.

And somehow...

He liked it.

---

The next few months changed everything. Mostly because Heeseung became impossible. Absolutely impossible. You saw him everywhere.

Library? Heeseung. Courtyard? Heeseung. Dining hall? Heeseung. Garden? Heeseung. Hallway? Heeseung.

At first you assumed coincidence. Then you discovered he had changed his study schedule three times just to match yours.

You discovered he sat near you whenever possible. You discovered his friends regularly abandoned him so he could speak with you. You discovered he was shameless. Utterly shameless.

"Good morning," he whispered for the third time that lesson.

"You said that already."

"I missed you."

"You saw me ten minutes ago."

"It was a difficult ten minutes."

You stared. He smiled. Infuriating. Months passed. Friendship grew. Slowly. Steadily. Against all logic.

Because despite his ridiculous behavior... He was kind. Painfully kind. He remembered everything. Your favorite books. Your favorite flowers. Your favorite tea. The subjects you struggled with. The subjects you loved. He listened. 

He cared. And worst of all—

you started looking for him too. The realization terrified you.

---

One winter evening, snow drifted outside the academy library. Most students had returned home. Only a handful remained. Including you. And including Heeseung.

You sat across from each other studying. Or at least pretending to study. Heeseung had read the same page five times. You hadn't read yours at all.The silence felt different tonight.

Heavy. Expectant. Dangerous. Finally, Heeseung closed his book.

"(Y/N)."You looked up. His expression was serious. Far too serious. 

Your heartbeat quickened, "What is it?"

"I need to ask you something."

The room suddenly felt smaller. Outside, snow continued falling.Inside, neither of you moved. "What?"

He swallowed. Then stood, "Come with me."

---

The gardens of Decelis were famous throughout the kingdom. Flowers bloomed among silver fountains. Crystal lanterns illuminated winding paths. Winter snow glittered beneath starlight.

It looked almost unreal. You followed Heeseung deeper into the gardens. Neither of you spoke. Your heart was racing. His was worse. Far worse.

Finally he stopped beneath a moonlit archway. For several moments, neither moved. Neither breathed. Then Heeseung turned toward you.

And everything changed. Because for the first time since you met him... There was no teasing.No laughter. No confidence. Only honesty. Raw. Terrifying honesty.

"(Y/N)," he said quietly. Your breath caught. His eyes never left yours. "I've liked you for a very long time." The world seemed to stop.

Snow drifted around you. Moonlight painted silver across the garden. And Heeseung continued, "I tried not to, it didn't work." A nervous laugh escaped him. "I thought it would."

His hands trembled slightly. "I thought if I waited, it would disappear."

It hadn't. You could hear it in every word. Every breath. Every heartbeat. His feelings had only grown stronger. "And now?" You whispered.

His gaze softened, "Now I think about you constantly." The confession struck like lightning.

You couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't look away. He stepped closer. Only slightly. Enough. "Will you let me court you?"

The question hung between you. Simple. Terrifying. Life-changing.

Your heart pounded because the answer had been growing inside you for months. Every smile. Every conversation. Every stolen moment. Every ridiculous greeting. Every shared laugh. Every glance.

You already knew. And so did he. You smiled- a small smile- but it was enough. "Yes." For a moment, Heeseung simply stared. As though he couldn't believe it.

Then the realization hit. And his entire face lit up. The joy there was so pure it nearly stole your breath.

He looked happier than anyone you had ever seen. And under the moonlit sky- the future seemed endless.

Neither of you noticed the figure watching from a balcony above.

Lady Lee.

Heeseung's mother. Her face cold. Her eyes sharp. And her expression furious. Because the future her son envisioned... Was not the future she intended. And she would do everything in her power to destroy it.

---

Lady Lee did not sleep that night. Neither did Heeseung. Neither did you.

For very different reasons. You lay awake in your small room at the academy, staring at the ceiling as snow continued falling outside.

Your heart refused to calm. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw him. The way his hands had trembled. The way his voice had cracked. The way he had looked at you after you said yes.You smiled into your pillow despite yourself. Then immediately buried your face in it. This was ridiculous.

You had never been the sort of girl who daydreamed about romance. You had spent most of your life studying, helping your father, dodging your brothers, and trying not to get dragged into village gossip.

Yet somehow Lee Heeseung had appeared and ruined everything because now your heart was doing strange things. And you hated it. Mostly.

---

Meanwhile, Heeseung was having a far worse evening because his mother had summoned him. Immediately. The moment you left. The doors of Lady Lee's private chambers closed behind him. The sound echoed. Dangerously.

Lady Lee stood near the fireplace. Elegant. Perfect. Terrifying.

The resemblance between mother and son was obvious. The same sharp features. The same dark eyes. The same commanding presence.

Unfortunately, Lady Lee possessed none of her son's warmth, "Heeseung."

His jaw tightened, "Mother."

"Who is she?" Straight to the point. Of course.

Heeseung didn't pretend ignorance, "(Y/N)."

"The blacksmith's daughter."

The words dripped with disdain. Something ugly twisted inside him, "She has a name."

Lady Lee's eyes narrowed, "You forget yourself."

"No," His voice was calm. Dangerously calm, "I remember exactly who I am."

The silence that followed felt sharp enough to cut skin. Lady Lee studied him carefully. Then sighed-like she was disappointed. "As your mother, I am attempting to save you from making a mistake."

The anger inside him grew, "(Y/N) is not a mistake."

"She is a commoner." The words struck like a slap. His hands clenched. Lady Lee continued, "You are a lord's son."

"Second son."

"That changes nothing."

"It changes everything." His voice rose for the first time, "You know it does."

The room fell silent. Because they both knew the truth. Heeseung would never inherit the titles. His older brother- Lee Heedo- would.

His future had always been different. Less restricted. Less political. Less important.

Yet somehow his mother still expected perfection. Still expected obedience. Still expected him to marry according to status. According to power. According to blood.

Never according to love. "End this," the command rang through the room. Heeseung laughed. A single sharp sound. Lady Lee looked startled.

Then offended. Then furious.

"No."

The word landed like a sword strike. "No?"

"No," Lady Lee stared. Her son had never spoken to her like this. Not once. Not ever. Yet here he stood. Meeting her gaze directly. Refusing.

Over a girl.

A blacksmith's daughter.

The realization made something cold settle inside her. Fine. If Heeseung would not end this willingly—She would end it herself.

---

The next morning, you walked into class and immediately knew something was wrong.Heeseung looked murderous. Actually murderous. You paused beside his desk, "Good morning?"

He looked up. The murderous expression disappeared instantly, "Oh."

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"You look like you're planning a crime."

"Only a few." You blinked. Heeseung smiled. But the smile didn't reach his eyes. Not entirely.

Something had happened. Something important.

Before you could ask further questions, arolled up piece of paper struck the back of Heeseung's head. He didn't even flinch, "Ow."

"You deserved that," Jake lowered his arm, Sunghoon nodded, Jay looked unimpressed, Sunoo looked entertained, Jungwon looked exhausted, Riki looked curious.

The entire friend group had arrived. Unfortunately.

"What did I do?"

Jake stared, "You disappeared."

"Yes?"

"You abandoned us."

"Mum."

"You missed dinner."

"Okay?"

"You have a girlfriend for one night and suddenly forget your friends exist." The classroom exploded into laughter. You nearly choked. Heeseung looked smug. You wanted the floor to swallow you whole.

"He's not my—"

"Courting partner."

Jay interrupted, "Potential future wife."

Sunoo added, "Future mother of his children."

Riki smirked subtly. You nearly died. Absolutely died. Heeseung looked delighted. "Thank you, Sunoo."

"You're welcome."

You covered your face. The boys continued arguing. The teacher eventually arrived. Order returned.

Mostly.

But one thing became painfully clear. Everyone was going to know. Soon. Very soon.

---

The disaster arrived two weeks later. In the form of your brothers. All four of them. At once.

You were walking through the academy courtyard with Heeseung when a familiar voice echoed across the grounds, "(Y/N)!"

You froze. Heeseung froze. Slowly. Very slowly. You turned around and immediately wished you hadn't.

Because Seo-jun was standing there. Alongside Min-hyeok. Tae-rin. And Ha-jun.

The Four Horsemen of Your Personal Apocalypse, "Oh no."

"What?"

"Oh no."

Heeseung finally noticed them, "Who—"

"My brothers."

"Oh." A pause. Then another. Then:

"Oh no."

Now he understood. The four men approached. Their expressions growing darker with every step. Particularly when they noticed Heeseung standing beside you.

Very close beside you. Far too close. Ha-jun pointed, "Who is that?"

You considered lying. Unfortunately, Heeseung stepped forward. And bowed politely. "My name is Lee Heeseung."

Traitor. Absolute traitor.

The brothers exchanged looks. Dangerous looks. The kind of looks soldiers exchanged before battle. "Lee?" Seo-jun repeated.

"Yes."

"The noble family?"

"Yes.""The lord's son?"

"Yes." Silence. 

Then: "No."

Heeseung blinked, "No?"

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm asking."

"I know enough," Seo-jun crossed his arms, "You are not courting my sister."

The courtyard became completely silent. Students immediately began watching. Of course they did. You wanted to disappear.

Unfortunately, your family prevented that. Frequently.

"I'm not asking permission." The words left Heeseung's mouth before he could stop them. Your brothers stared. You stared. Even Heeseung looked shocked because that had been a terrible thing to say. A truly terrible thing to say. The resulting silence was horrifying.

Then Seo-jun smiled. That was somehow worse. Much worse. "Interesting."

Min-hyeok nodded slowly, "Very interesting."

Tae-rin cracked his knuckles. Ha-jun looked delighted because chaos was his favorite hobby.

"Oh, this is going badly," You whispered.

Heeseung whispered back, "I noticed."

And somehow against all logic of the situation—You almost laughed.

---

The first letter arrived three days later. Lady Lee's seal gleamed upon the wax. You frowned. Then opened it and your blood ran cold because the contents were clear.

Painfully clear.

'You are not suitable for my son.'

You read the words once. Twice. Three times. Each reading made your stomach twist further.

She spoke of bloodlines. Status. Reputation. Duty.

Everything nobles valued. Everything you lacked. The message beneath the polite language was unmistakable.

'Leave him.'

You folded the letter carefully. Then walked home. Your father was working. Sparks danced through the air. The familiar sight usually comforted you. Today it didn't. Immediately, he noticed. His hammer lowered, "Sweetheart."

You swallowed, "Dad."

His expression changed instantly. The smile disappeared, "What happened?"

You handed him the letter. He read. Once. Twice. Then a third time. The air became very still.

"Dad?" No answer. "Dad." Still nothing.

Slowly, your father folded the letter, placed it on the table, then rolled up his sleeves. You stared, "Dad?"

"Where is my hammer?"

Your eyes widened, "Dad."

"Just asking."

"Dad."

"Perfectly innocent question."

"DAD."

The forge door suddenly opened and your brothers entered. Unfortunately. Your father immediately handed them the letter. You watched all four read it. You watched all four become angry. Very angry. Perhaps murderously angry.Your headache arrived immediately. 

Because this situation had somehow become worse. And you were fairly certain nobody had reached peak anger yet.

Not even close. Especially not Lee Heeseung. Who had not yet discovered what his mother had done.

When he did—

The kingdom itself might have reason to worry.

---

The kingdom had much more to worry than expected because Heeseung discovered the letter the very next day. And he was furious.

Not the quiet irritation his friends were accustomed to. Not the mild annoyance he displayed when Jake stole food from his plate. Not even the dangerous anger he showed during academy tournaments.

No. This was different. This was the kind of fury that settled deep in a person's bones. The kind that remained. The kind that changed things.

Forever.

---

You were sitting beneath the old oak tree near the academy gardens when Heeseung found you. Immediately, you knew something was wrong. His uniform was immaculate as always. His posture was perfect. His expression was calm. Unbothered.

The sort of calm people possessed right before disaster struck.

"Heeseung?" No response. Your stomach dropped because he only ignored you when something was truly wrong.

Slowly, he approached. Then held out an envelope. Your blood ran cold. The letter. Lady Lee's letter, "Oh." The single word escaped before you could stop it. 

Heeseung's jaw tightened, "She sent this to you." Not a question. A statement.

You swallowed, "Yes."

"When?"

"Three days ago." The silence that followed felt unbearable. Students passed nearby. Birds sang. The world continued turning. Yet somehow everything felt frozen.

"You didn't tell me." You stared at the ground because he wasn't wrong. You hadn't told him. Partly because you didn't want to worry him. Partly because you knew exactly how he would react. And judging by his expression—

You had been right, "I handled it."

"No," his voice cut through the air. Sharp. Precise. “You shouldn't have needed to." The anger beneath the words startled you. Not because it was directed at you. Because it wasn't. Every ounce of it was aimed elsewhere.

At Lady Lee. At the expectations surrounding him. At every person who believed they had the right to decide your worth, "(Y/N)."

You looked up. His eyes softened immediately. Just for you. Only for you. "You should never have had to read that." Something tightened painfully in your chest. Because nobody had said that. Not your father. Not your brothers. Not even yourself. 

Everyone had focused on the insult. The injustice. The anger. Only Heeseung focused on the hurt. The fact that someone had deliberately tried to make you feel lesser. And he hated it. You could see it. You could feel it.

His anger wasn't pride. It wasn't possessiveness. It was heartbreak. For you. And somehow that made everything worse. Because suddenly you wanted to cry. Which was ridiculous. You never cried. Almost never. 

Yet Heeseung looked at you as though the letter had wounded him personally. As though your pain belonged to him too. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. His fingers immediately intertwined with yours. Natural. Effortless. As though they'd been doing it forever.

The realization sent heat rushing to your face. Heeseung smiled slightly. The first genuine smile all day, "There you are."

"What?"

"I've been looking for that smile."

You scoffed quietly and the moment shattered. Thankfully. Because if he kept looking at you like that—You might've forgotten how to speak entirely.

---

Unfortunately, someone else witnessed the interaction. Lady Lee. Again.The woman seemed to appear whenever she was least wanted. Which was always. She had arrived at the academy to attend a noble council meeting.

Instead, she found herself standing in a stone corridor overlooking the gardens. Watching. And what she saw horrified her. Not because you were holding hands. Not because Heeseung looked happy.

But because he looked devoted. Completely devoted. The sort of devotion people wrote songs about. The sort of devotion that ignored reason. Ignored status. Ignored logic. Ignored consequences.

The sort of devotion that could not be controlled. And Lady Lee despised anything she could not control.

---

The rumors exploded by week's end. They spread through Decelis Academy like wildfire. The blacksmith's daughter. The lord's son. The impossible romance.

Students whispered during lessons. During meals. During training sessions.

Everywhere. Most were supportive. Some were curious. A few were cruel. One particularly foolish noble girl approached you during lunch.Her smile was sweet. Artificially sweet. The kind that usually preceded unpleasantness, "You must feel very fortunate."

You looked up from your book, "What?"

"Lord Heeseung," she laughed lightly, "As a commoner, opportunities like this don't come often."

The table went silent. Completely silent. You recognized the trap immediately. Unfortunately, so did everyone else. Including Heeseung. Who happened to be sitting directly beside you with his arm around your shoulders.

The girl has made a mistake. A terrible mistake.

Because now the noble girl had purposely insulted someone Heeseung cared about and he was already angry.

The combination was unfortunate. For her. "What exactly do you mean by that?" The question sounded polite. Almost gentle. 

The girl relaxed.bAnother mistake, "I only mean she should know her place."

The dining hall froze. Completely froze. Hundreds of students stared. Waiting. Watching. Heeseung slowly set down his fork. Then stood.The movement alone made the girl pale because suddenly she realized something. 

The problem wasn't that a noble was courting a blacksmith's daughter. The problem was that the noble in question was Lee Heeseung.

And Lee Heeseung looked ready to start a war, "Her place?" His voice was terrifyingly calm. The girl swallowed. No response. Heeseung stepped forward. Just once. Yet somehow it felt threatening. "If you ever speak about her like that again—"

"Heeseung," Your voice interrupted him. Immediately. Instantly. His attention shifted. The anger disappeared.

Not completely but enough. The transformation stunned everyone. One moment he looked furious. The next he looked at you. And softened. As though the world itself revolved around your opinion.The entire dining hall noticed- every single person. The silence became deafening. You suddenly wished for death. Or invisibility.

Either would suffice. "Heeseung," You squeezed his hand gently, "Sit down."

He obeyed immediately. The dining hall collectively lost its mind. Because apparently watching one of the academy's most respected nobles obey a blacksmith's daughter without hesitation was shocking.

Personally, you thought everyone was overreacting. Heeseung disagreed, "You could tell me to jump into the Han River."

You stared, "What?"

"I probably would."

"That's ridiculous."

His smile returned, "There it is again."

You kicked him under the table and he looked delighted.

---

Several days later, Heeseung visited your home for the first time. In retrospect, nothing good could have come from this.

The signs were obvious. Your father spent three hours preparing. Your brothers spent two. Nobody explained why, which somehow made everything worse.

When Heeseung arrived at the house, everyone was waiting.

Your father.

Seo-jun.

Min-hyeok.

Tae-rin.

Ha-jun.

All standing together. Watching. Like executioners.

"Oh."Heeseung stopped walking. Reasonable. Very reasonable. Your father smiled. The smile was terrifying.

"Welcome."

Heeseung bowed respectfully."Sir."

"Come inside." The smile remained. Still terrifying. You considered warning him. Unfortunately, it was already too late. He had entered the house. There was no escape now. The interrogation lasted three hours.

Three.

Entire.

Hours.

By the end, even Heeseung looked exhausted. Your father had questioned everything. His intentions. His future. His studies. His finances. His character. His plans. His feelings.

The weather. Probably. You couldn't remember anymore.

At one point Seo-jun demanded to know how many books Heeseung had read. At another point Min-hyeok somehow started discussing swordsmanship. Tae-rin wanted to know whether Heeseung could repair a wagon. Ha-jun simply asked increasingly bizarre questions for entertainment.

The entire experience felt surreal. Yet somehow, Heeseung never complained. Not once.Not even when your father asked the most important question of all, “Why her?"

The room fell silent. You froze. Everyone did. Even Ha-jun, which was rare. Extremely rare.

Heeseung looked toward you. Then smiled softly and answered, “Because she's her."

Silence. Absolute silence. Your heart stopped. Completely stopped. Your father stared. Seo-jun stared. Everyone stared. Heeseung didn't seem to notice. Or care. Because he continued.

"She's kind." Your face burned. "She's stubborn." Your face burned more. "She's brave." The room disappeared. "She's smarter than most nobles I've met." You considered jumping through a window. “She's honest." Death would be preferable. "And because I love who I become when I'm with her."

The silence afterward felt endless. No one moved. No one spoke. No one breathed. Then your father looked away. Quickly. Suspiciously quickly. As though hiding something. Seo-jun suddenly found the ceiling fascinating. Min-hyeok cleared his throat. Tae-rin rubbed his eyes. Ha-jun looked emotional- which was horrifying. Because if Ha-jun became emotional- the world was ending.

You looked down immediately because your own eyes suddenly felt suspiciously wet. And you absolutely refused to cry in front of everyone. Especially not because of Lee Heeseung. Especially not because he loved you.

---

The problem with Lee Heeseung was that once he decided something- nothing could stop him. Not his friends. Not your brothers. Not the academy. And certainly not his mother.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Heeseung had decided he loved you. Which meant the entire kingdom was about to suffer the consequences.

---

Lady Lee summoned him again three days after his visit to your family's forge. This time, Heeseung arrived already irritated. A dangerous sign. Because normally Heeseung was patient. Reasonable. Diplomatic.

Today he was none of those things.

The moment he entered the sitting room, Lady Lee dismissed the servants. The doors shut. Silence settled. Then the argument began. "You visited her home."

Not a greeting. Not a question. An accusation.

"Yes," Heeseung shrugged.

Lady Lee inhaled sharply, "As if they are your equals."

The words landed like a slap.Heeseung's expression darkened immediately, "They are."

"No."

"They are."

"Heeseung—"

"No." The interruption shocked her. Again.

Recently, her son had become increasingly difficult to control. Increasingly willing to challenge her. Increasingly willing to choose you. Every single time. And she hated it. "You are embarrassing this family."

The statement hung between them. Cold. Cruel. Deliberate. For a moment Heeseung simply stared. Then he laughed. Not because it was funny. Because it was absurd. "Embarrassing?" his voice was dangerously quiet, "You think loving someone is embarrassing?"

"I think forgetting your responsibilities is embarrassing." Something snapped. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just enough. The patience he'd spent months maintaining finally disappeared.

"You want to know what's embarrassing?" Lady Lee froze, because her son looked angry. Truly angry. The kind of anger that rarely surfaced. The kind that made even grown men nervous.

"I've spent years doing everything you've asked," his voice shook. Not from fear- from fury. "I studied what you wanted." Silence. "I behaved how you wanted." More silence. "I became the son you wanted." Lady Lee said nothing because she knew it was true. "And now." His jaw clenched. "You've decided the one thing I want isn't acceptable."

The room felt suffocating. Heavy. Painfully heavy. For the first time, Lady Lee saw something she'd never expected. Resentment. Years of it. Buried beneath obedience. Buried beneath politeness. Buried beneath duty. All finally surfacing.

And somehow- it was your fault. At least in her eyes. Because before you, Heeseung had accepted everything. Before you, he'd listened. Before you, he'd obeyed. Then you arrived. And suddenly he was fighting back. Suddenly he was choosing himself. Suddenly he was happy.

And Lady Lee despised the fact that happiness had made him stronger.

---

You had no idea any of this was happening. Instead, you were attempting to survive another day at Decelis Academy. A difficult task. Mostly because your relationship was no longer a secret. At all. Not even slightly. The academy had become unbearable.

Everywhere you went, people stared. Whispered. Gossiped. Speculated. It was exhausting. You were halfway through lunch when Sunoo suddenly appeared beside you. Without warning. Like a particularly annoying ghost.

"(Y/N)."

You nearly dropped your spoon, "What?"

Sunoo grinned. "Do you know what Heeseung did yesterday?" The answer was immediately concerning.

"No."

Sunoo looked delighted which made it worse, "He threatened a duke's son."

You choked, "What?"

Across the table, Jake nodded. "Twice."

"TWICE?"

"Technically three times," Jay corrected. You stared. Sunghoon looked embarrassed. Jungwon looked tired. Riki looked fascinated. The usual.

"What happened?"

Jake pointed toward Heeseung, who was currently reading a book several tables away. As though he hadn't apparently threatened multiple nobles. The liar.

"The duke's son called you a gold digger."

The dining hall immediately became quiet. Again. You hated when that happened. Because it usually meant trouble. And trouble frequently involved Heeseung. "Oh."

Jake nodded, "That was our reaction too." You looked toward Heeseung. He still hadn't looked up from his book. The picture of innocence. Fraudulent innocence. The worst kind.

"What exactly did he say?"

The six boys exchanged looks. Then Sunghoon sighed, "Heeseung informed him that if he ever insulted you again-"

Jake interrupted, "He'd throw him through a window."

You stared. Sunoo continued, "Then through another window."

You blinked. Riki nodded seriously, "There were several windows involved."

The silence lasted five seconds. Then, "He wouldn't actually do that." The six boys looked at each other. Nobody answered. Your stomach dropped."Oh God."

---

The academy's Spring Festival arrived two weeks later. Traditionally, it was one of the most anticipated events of the year. Students dressed elegantly. Musicians performed. Nobles socialized. Future political alliances formed. And young people found excuses to dance together. You hated it already. Your brothers were visiting.

Lady Lee would obviously attend.

Half the nobility would be present. Nothing good could possibly happen, which meant disaster was inevitable. Heeseung disagreed because he was excited. Extremely excited. Suspiciously excited.

The realization should have worried you sooner.

---

The festival began at sunset. Lanterns illuminated every pathway, music echoed through the academy grounds, students filled the gardens, laughter drifted through the evening air.

Beautiful. Elegant. Dangerous. You adjusted your dress nervously. Immediately regretting it because dresses attracted attention. Attention attracted people. People asked questions. You hated questions.

"(Y/N)." You turned and forgot how to breathe. Entirely.

Because Heeseung was standing there looking unfairly handsome. Completely unfairly. It should have been illegal. Actually illegal.

His dark formal suit fit him perfectly, his hair was neatly styled, his expression softened the moment he saw you.

Then completely disappeared. He stared. And stared. And continued staring. Your face warmed instantly.

"Heeseung." No response. "Heeseung." Still nothing. Finally, Jake appeared. Looked at Heeseung. Then at you. Then sighed, "He's broken again."

The others arrived immediately. Of course they did. Jay took one look at Heeseung's expression, and agreed, "Completely broken."

Sunghoon nodded, "Beyond repair."

Sunoo looked entertained, "As expected."

Jungwon pinched the bridge of his nose. Riki looked thoughtful, "I think he's in love."

You wanted to disappear. Immediately. Forever.

Meanwhile, Heeseung finally remembered how to speak. Barely, "You look beautiful." Silence. Complete silence.

Even his friends stopped talking. Your heart stuttered. Then stopped entirely because he wasn't teasing. Wasn't flirting. Wasn't joking. He meant it. Entirely. And the sincerity in his voice nearly destroyed you, "Oh."

Brilliant response. Truly. A masterpiece. Heeseung smiled. The soft smile. The dangerous smile. The one reserved only for you. The one that made your heartbeat impossible, "You always do."

Your death became imminent.

---

The dancing began shortly afterward. You had hoped to avoid it. A foolish hope. A hopeless hope because Heeseung found you almost immediately. Then held out his hand. The gesture was simple. Yet somehow it felt enormous. Terrifying. Important.

Every noble custom suddenly became relevant. Every watching eye suddenly mattered. The entire world narrowed. Only him. Only you. Only this moment.

"May I have this dance?" his voice was quiet. Gentle. Yours. Always yours.

The realization terrified you because somewhere along the way- he had become home.

You placed your hand in his, "Yes." The smile that followed nearly blinded you.

Together, you stepped onto the dance floor. The music swelled. The crowd disappeared. The world faded. Only Heeseung remained. His hand resting carefully at your waist- your fingers in his. His eyes fixed entirely on you- as though nothing else existed. As though nobody else existed. For several moments neither spoke. Neither needed to.

Then: "I'm going to marry you someday."

You nearly tripped, "Heeseung!"

"What?"

You stared in horror. He looked confused- genuinely confused. The audacity. The absolute audacity. "You cannot say things like that."

"Why?"

"Because-" Words failed. Completely. Heeseung looked pleased, which was suspicious. Very suspicious. Then he leaned slightly closer. Only enough for you to hear, "I mean it."

Your heart stopped. Again. This was becoming a problem. A serious problem because he sounded completely serious. Not hopeful. Not dreamy. Certain. As though he'd already decided. As though the future itself had been settled.

And somehow- part of you wanted to believe him.

---

Unfortunately, someone else heard.

Lady Lee.

Standing across the hall. Watching. Always watching. And for the first time- fear entered her heart. Because she finally understood. This wasn't infatuation. Wasn't youthful attraction. Wasn't a phase.

Her son loved you. Entirely. Completely. Irrevocably. And the terrifying part? You loved him too. So, naturally- she needed a better way to destroy that.

---

The problem with fate was that it never cared about anyone's plans- not yours, not Heeseung's.

And certainly not Lady Lee's.

Because only three days after the Spring Festival, a storm descended upon Decelis Academy unlike anything seen in years. The sky darkened before noon. Thunder shook the mountains. Rain battered ancient stone walls.

Students rushed indoors. Lessons were cancelled. Hallways filled with confusion. And by evening, nobody was permitted to leave their assigned dormitory wing.

Unfortunately, you were nowhere near yours.

---

"This is your fault."

Heeseung looked offended, "My fault?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"You wanted to walk through the gardens."

"You agreed."

"That isn't the point."

"It feels like the point."

You glared, he smiled. That infuriating man had the audacity to smile. Even now. Even while rain hammered against glass windows. Even while the academy staff attempted to organize hundreds of stranded students.

Even while you were both trapped in the administrative wing- too far from your dormitory.

"This is bad."

"It's not bad."

"It is."

"It isn't."

"Heeseung."

"(Y/N)."

You narrowed your eyes. He looked pleased with himself. Again. You hated when he looked pleased with himself, mostly because he was usually about to say something outrageous, which meant you were never prepared.

"We're dry."

"Yes."

"We're safe."

"Mhm."

"We're together."

You immediately looked away. A mistake.Because his grin widened, "Oh, there it is."

"What?"

"The blushing."

"I am not blushing."

"You absolutely are."

You were. Unfortunately.

---

The academy staff eventually found a temporary solution. A terrible solution. An absolutely horrifying solution, which was how you found yourself standing beside Heeseung while an exhausted professor explained the situation, "We've run out of rooms." Silence.

"What?"

The professor sighed, "The lower dormitories flooded."

"Okay..."

"The guest wing is full."

"Oh."

"The faculty quarters are full."

"Oh."

The professor looked increasingly tired, "So you'll be sharing one of the study suites until morning."

The world stopped. Entirely.

You stared. Heeseung stared. The professor continued speaking. Neither of you heard a word because one sentence was repeating inside your mind.

Sharing. One. Room.

"Oh no."

The professor left. Immediately. Probably because he valued his own survival. A wise decision. Very wise.

You and Heeseung remained standing there. Motionless, neither speaking, neither breathing. The silence became unbearable. Then: "This is fine."

You looked at him. Heeseung looked back. Neither of you believed that. At all.

---

The study suite was surprisingly large. A fireplace. Several bookshelves. A sofa. A desk. Two armchairs. One large window overlooking the storm. Comfortable. Private. Far too private.You hated it immediately. Mostly because Heeseung seemed entirely unaffected. At first. Then you noticed the slight tension in his shoulders, the way he kept adjusting his sleeves, the way he avoided looking directly at you.

Interesting. Very interesting.Because Lee Heeseung was nervous and you'd never seen that before. Not truly. Not like this.

The realization was oddly comforting. Good. He deserved it.

---

Hours passed. Rain continued outside. Thunder echoed through the mountains. Inside, the fire crackled softly.

You sat in one armchair. Heeseung sat in the other. A respectable distance apart. Neither of you acknowledged how aware you were of each other's presence.Not once. Not verbally. At least.Until Heeseung ruined the peace, "Can I ask you something?"

You looked up from your book. He was watching the flames.

"What?"

His expression softened, "When did you start liking me?"

The question nearly killed you. Brutally. Mercilessly. You considered pretending not to hear. Unfortunately, he was patient. Annoyingly patient.

So eventually you answered, "I don't know." A lie. A complete lie. You knew exactly when- the library, the study sessions, the way he remembered everything, the way he listened, the way he cared.

You remembered all of it. And apparently Heeseung did too- because he smiled, "You're lying."

Your jaw dropped. The audacity- again, "You asked a question."

"And you didn't answer it."

"I did."

"No, you didn't."

You wanted to throw a book at him but, instead, you hugged it tighter. A much more mature response. Probably.

---

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, which somehow made it worse- because being comfortable with him had become dangerously easy. Dangerously natural.

You watched rain slide down the window. He watched you. The realization arrived suddenly. Without warning.

And when it did- you couldn't ignore it- no matter how hard you tried. You loved him.

The thought struck like lightning. Not because it was new but because it wasn't. Deep down, you'd known for weeks. Months, perhaps. You just hadn't said it. Hadn't allowed yourself to say it because saying it made it real. Terrifyingly real. 

And Heeseung... He loved you too. Enough to fight his mother. Enough to challenge nobles. Enough to risk his future. Enough to choose you. Every single time. Your chest tightened painfully because no one had ever chosen you like that before.

---

"(Y/N)." You looked up almost immediately because something in his voice sounded different.  Heeseung wasn't smiling anymore, wasn't teasing, wasn't joking.

His gaze held yours. Steady. Certain. And suddenly the room felt much smaller. "What is it?"

For a moment, he said nothing. Then quietly, "No matter what happens..." Your breath caught. "No matter what my mother does." Silence. "No matter what anyone says." The storm raged outside. Inside, however, only his voice existed, "I am not leaving."

Your heart shattered because he meant it. Every word. Every promise. Every impossible vow. He meant all of it. And somehow- that frightened you more than anything.

Because what if he lost everything? What if loving you cost him too much? What if- "What if I ask you to?" The question escaped before you could stop it.

Immediately, regret followed. Heeseung stared. Then stood slowly, crossing the room until he stopped beside your chair. Close. Too close to be innocent. Just enough.

Carefully, he placed his hand on your cheek, moving forward as his breath ghosted over your lips. Leaning in, he pressed a heavy kiss to your lips. A kiss that held too much pent up tension and too much heat, and far too much love.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, still carefully cradling your face with his large palm as the other slid over your hip. You breathed into his mouth, your hands coming to rest over his shoulders as you melted into the kiss. 

Heeseung pulled back slightly, his forehead pressing to yours as he began unbuttoning your uniform shirt. When it was done all the way, he did his own, pulling both of them off both of you and throwing them into the corner of the room with a muffled thud.

Discarding the rest of your clothes, he pushed you back gently into the soft plush of the mattress, coming to giver over you as your naked bodies tangled together in the heat of the kiss.

“Do you want this?” Heeseung whispered, his lips trailing down your chin and to your neck, sucking lightly on the skin there, nipping a few times but soothing it with worshipping kisses and licks.

You nodded wordlessly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you arched into his touch.

“Words, my love, I need words,” he muttered, the sound vibrating through your body and sending searing heat straight to your core.

“Please, Hee,” you whined quietly, the flickering candles set around the room framing your feverish expression with a soft, warm light. The thunder cracked outside, making you jolt and press against him once more, feeling his growing hard-on.

You glanced up through your lashes to where he had changed positions. With a single view of your doe eyes staring at him, he groaned, the noise cutting through your thoughts and adding to your arousal.

Without warning, Heeseung dropped half his weight onto your body, crashing his lips onto yours as his hand cupped your small chest, thumb flicking over your nipple. You moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer towards you while grinding on his thigh.

He dipped down, parting from your mouth to rest between your thighs, face-to-face with your slick pussy. He pressed a kiss to the throbbing mound, then licked a broad stripe up the middle. You arched off the bed, as the obscene wet noises of Heeseung making out with your dripping cunt filling the room.

You reached down, threading your fingers through his hair and pushing him further down until he was nose deep inside you, smelling the slick arousal that was gathering there.

He moaned around your entrance, moving his hand to push inside you, scissoring your gummy walls next to his tongue. Quickening his pace, Heeseung pumped his tongue and fingers together inside and out of you, trying to get you to your high as quick as possible.

You whined loudly, followed by another whine, and another, and another, until Heeseung spoke, “Cum for me, princess, please cum for me.”

With one final noise, the coil setting low in your stomach snapped, sending gushing liquid down your thighs and Heeseung’s chin. He didn’t waste a bit of it, licking every last drop until only his spit remained on your legs and pussy.

You panted quietly, pulling him up by his shoulder till he was face-to-face with you, “My turn,” you whispered into his ear, rolling both of you until you were sat on top of him.

Heeseung looked up at you, eyes filled with adoration as he followed your movements until you were seated between his thighs. “(Y/n), you don’t have to-“ he started.

“I want to,” you cut him off, your hand wrapping around the base of his flushed red cock. He inhaled sharply at the contact, hips shifting slightly before you pressed your forearm down on his hipbone, “Stay still.”

Carefully, you took him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around his leaking tip, the salty taste of precum and sweat melting on your tongue. Heeseung let out a content sigh, his head dropping back onto the pillows behind him.

Taking him deeper, your nose pressed flush against his pelvis, you swallowed around him, your throat squeezing his length lightly. “Oh my god,” he arched slightly, fingers slipping into your hair as you swallowed again.

You looked up at him through your lashes, gagging deliciously when his cock hit the back of your throat, to which he moaned again- louder this time. Pulling your mouth off him completely, a string of spit connecting your lips to his tip, you wrapped both hands around his length and squeezed, “(Y/n)-“ Heeseung gasped, his grip on the bed sheets beside him turning his knuckles white.

Outside, the thunder from the storm cracked, but you were too focused on the pleasure to notice. Taking him back into your mouth again, you pushed all the way down, so he hit the back of your throat repeatedly.

He groaned, lifting one hand to bite on the skin there to keep his noises quiet. “Don’t, Hee, I want to hear you when you come,” you mumbled as you pulled off and peppered kisses on his thighs.

You licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock, from base to tip, pressing a soft kiss to the slit at the top. Surprisingly, that made him come, the white liquid coating your cheek and nose and mouth. Looking up innocently, you made eye contact and Heeseung groaned again, more of the liquid squirting out again onto you.

When he was done, Heeseung pulled you up till you were laid next to him, his hand on your breast and his other on your ass, while he wiped his cum off your face and licked it off his finger.

“You’re such a pervert,” you scoffed, laughing slightly, but still obeyed when he lifted his finger to your mouth, sucking on it until it was clean.

“Shhh, sweetheart, I’m going to make you feel so good,” Heeseung held your jaw, pulling you into a dizzying kiss while slipping his hand down between you to rub over your clit. You whimpered into his mouth, bucking into his hand as he smirked at your reaction.

“Needy, are we, doll?” he teased, rubbing over your pussy in tight circles while his hand dropped from your jaw to your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple.

“H-hee,” you protested, trying to get some more pressure that he wasn’t giving you, “don’t, ah, t-tease…”

Heeseung chuckled quietly, pulling his hand back as he pushed your body onto the bed and got on top of you, “Sorry, angel, I couldn’t help myself, I’ll take good care of you,” he muttered against your neck, before nipping the skin there.

You could feel his hard cock pressing against your entrance, and his hips moving back and forth so it was rubbing against you but not entering yet. “Heeseung, please,” you pleaded, eyes closing briefly to hold back a whine as he teased you.

“Okay, baby,” he smiled, pulling his hips back and lining himself up with your entrance. With one rock of his hips, he pushed inside, the stretch burning gloriously  as you both moaned loudly.

“Fuck- oh my god,” Heeseung groaned.

“Shit-“ you gasped, hands flying to his shoulder as your nails dug into the skin there to ground yourself.

“Baby, you feel so perfect, squeezing me so tight,” he whispered, pressing his lips to yours.

He pulled his hips back, only to snap them back in just as fast, causing you to moan into his mouth. Taking the opportunity, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, the wet muscle sliding against yours.

He moved back and forth inside you, stretching you out completely with his girth. Pulling his mouth back, a string of saliva connected your lips, and you moaned again- louder this time. As you did, Heeseung spat into your mouth, “Swallow,” he growled.

You complied, too pleased to even care that he had just done was so perverted that it was actually insane. 

Heeseung looked down between your bodies, watching his cock slide in and out of you easily from the messes you had both created before, “That’s it,” he eased back inside of you again, “Take it like a good girl, my good girl.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent scream as your face painted a picture of pure, fucked-out pleasure, “You gonna come, angel?” he whispered, “For me?” 

You nodded, opening your eyes again and staring into his, “…p-please…” 

He smirked, biting his lip as he reached between your bodies and began rubbing small circles on your clit. “Hee-“ you whimpered, the dual pressure too much and building up pressure in your lower belly again.

“Good girl,” he praised, rubbing harder as he slammed his cock into your pussy, “Come for me. Now. Again. All over my cock.”

With a drawn-out moan, you arched off the bed, warm liquid dripping out of you and onto his cock, “Fuck-“ you yelped as you came hard.

“Shit, baby, you’re squeezing me so much, can I come inside, yeah?” Heeseung cursed, rubbing your clit harder- to which you nodded and fluttered around him. He came heavily, the orgasm crashing down on both of you as he pumped inside of you to mix your fluids, “Fuuuuckk, you feel too good, milking me like this…” he growled as he leaned down and hit down on your neck, sucking on the skin.

Breathing heavily, he hoisted your leg up onto his hip, fully prepared for round two, but you rested a hand on his cheek, making him pause, “I don’t think I can move much, I won’t be any good,” you whispered, embarrassed that you couldn’t help him.

“My poor baby,” Heeseung pouted, dropping your leg back onto the bed and cradling your cheeks, “How about we cuddle-fuck? You know, spooning? You can be my pillow-princess,” he kissed you gently, watching the way your eyes lit up and chuckling.

As soon as you got into position, your back to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, he pushed inside you again, moving his hips at a steady pace. He moved his hand down to your lower abdomen, feeling the bulge there every time he pushed back in.

“Feel that? That’s how deep I am, right inside you, fucking you senseless, doll,” he growled and you whimpered breathlessly, your hands cradling his over your stomach.

Heeseung kept the slow pace, moving behind you gently, careful not to disturb you as he chased his own pleasure while you fell asleep in his arms. He lifted his leg over yours, pulling your whole body flush against his as he whispered sweet praises at how amazing you were into your hair.

“My perfect angel, letting me do this,” he mumbled as he kissed down the back of your neck and to your shoulder, leaving wet trails as he did. He thrust inside of you again, the bedsheets tangling between your legs as you woke up slightly, jostled awake by the pleasure once again.

You gasped quietly, your back giving a small arch against him as his tip hit your cervix once more, “Hee,” you leaned back onto his chest, your head on his shoulder as you spoke, “you’re too good, ah, at this….”

“Only for you my love,” he breathed against you, you sweaty skin pressing tight her in every way, it got to the point that you believed he would actually crawl into your skin if possible, “I only do anything for you…”

You felt the coil in your stomach pull tight again, giving a clear sign you were approaching you high again. Still reeling from the last orgasm, you moaned half-silently.

“My perfect girl,” Heeseung pressed a kiss to your shoulder, thrusting into you one more time until the coil snapped inside you. Liquid gushed between you two and onto the bedsheets, soaking the mattress as well as your thighs. 

He looked at you in awe, eyes gleaming with adoration as he pushed in and out of you, chasing his own release. The overstimulation was perfect, giving you more cum to release as he modded your gummy walls around his cock.

Heeseung came with a quiet groan, pressing his face into your neck as he spilled out inside of you, liquid releasing more and more until you had milked him dry and both of you were empty of nothing but love and pleasure.

Pulling back slightly, he answered- his voice was gentle but firm, "I won't leave you if you ask me to."

Your heart nearly stopped. Again. This was becoming a serious health concern, "You don't mean that."

"I do."

"Heeseung—"

"I love you." Silence. Absolute silence. The words settled between you. Heavy. Real. Beautiful. Terrifying.

Outside, thunder shook the mountains. Inside, the world changed because this time- neither of you pretended not to hear it, neither of you looked away.

And for the first time since this impossible train wreck of a story began, you realized that perhaps true love was stronger than fear. Stronger than status. Stronger than expectations. Perhaps even stronger than Lady Lee.

And somewhere far below the academy walls- Lady Lee was already preparing her next move. The cruelest one yet. One that threatened to separate you and Heeseung forever.

---

The first sign that something was wrong was the silence. Not the comfortable silence that existed between you and Heeseung. Not the kind that came with shared books, stolen smiles, or lingering glances.A different silence. A frightening one.

The kind that settled over a room before disaster arrived. The kind your father always recognized immediately. The kind your brothers hated. The kind that made people uneasy without understanding why.

And unfortunately- that silence arrived in the form of a letter. Again. Only this time it wasn't addressed to you- it was addressed to your father.

---

He read it once, then twice, then a third time. His expression became harder with every line. You were sitting across from him in the dining table. Immediately, your stomach twisted. "Dad?" No answer, "Dad." Still nothing. The silence stretched. 

Then slowly, he handed you the letter. Your eyes moved across the page.And your heart dropped because Lady Lee had escalated. Drastically. The letter was polite. Respectful. Elegant. Which somehow made it worse.

She wasn't threatening. She wasn't insulting. She wasn't demanding. Instead- she was offering money. A lot of money. Enough money to change your family's life forever. Enough to expand the workshop. Enough to buy land. Enough to ensure comfort for generations.In exchange for one thing. You. Or rather- your absence.

Your hands began to tremble. She wanted your father to convince you to end things with Heeseung. Permanently. A price.She had placed a price on your love. As though it could be purchased. As though you could be purchased.

Your vision blurred. For a moment you couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't move. Then suddenly- the letter disappeared from your line of sight.

Your father had snatched it from your hands and the next second it was in the fireplace. Burning. Gone. Destroyed.

You gasped, "Dad—"

"I don't care if she offered the royal treasury," his voice shook. Not from fear- but from anger. The kind of anger that made grown men dangerous, "My daughter's love isn't for sale."

Something inside your chest broke because your father didn't hesitate. Didn't consider it. Didn't even think about it. He simply burned the letter. As though the very suggestion disgusted him.Your eyes filled again, "Dad." His expression softened.

"Oh sweetheart." And that somehow made everything worse because now you really might cry.

---

Unfortunately, Lady Lee wasn't finished- not even close. Because while she was attempting to buy your absence- Lord Lee was finally becoming involved.And unlike his wife- he was far more dangerous because Lord Lee rarely interfered. Rarely raised his voice. Rarely involved himself in family matters. Which meant when he did- people listened.

Even Lady Lee. Even Heeseung. Especially Heeseung.

---

Heeseung was summoned home three days later.

The message contained no explanation- only a request. Yet somehow he already knew. The moment he entered his family's estate, he knew.

The servants looked nervous, the atmosphere felt heavy, and his father was waiting.

That alone was enough.

Because Lord Lee never waited for anyone. Not even his sons. Yet there he sat, inside the family study. Hands folded. Expression unreadable. Watching.

"Heeseung."

"Father."

The door closed behind him and silence followed. Long. Heavy. Uncomfortable.

Then finally- Lord Lee spoke, "I hear you've been causing problems."

Straight to the point. As always. Heeseung remained standing, "I disagree."

A slight eyebrow raise. Interesting. "I see." More silence. Then Lord Lee spoke again, "The blacksmith's daughter."

There it was. The real reason. The actual reason. The only reason.

Heeseung's jaw tightened, "(Y/N)." Lord Lee's gaze sharpened, "You correct me."

"She has a name." A mistake. Perhaps. Yet Heeseung didn't regret it. Not even slightly. The silence that followed felt endless. Then his father sighed. A tired sigh. An almost disappointed sigh. And somehow that hurt more than anger would have. 

"Heeseung," The use of his name was rare, which only made it worse, "You are making this difficult."

His hands clenched, "By loving someone?"

"By refusing reality." The words struck hard because Lord Lee wasn't cruel. Never cruel. Just practical. Painfully practical. And practicality was often more damaging than cruelty.

"Reality?" Heeseung laughed. A short, bitter one, "You mean status."

"I mean consequences." The room became very quiet because both men understood exactly what was being said. Lord Lee leaned forward, "The world is not kind." Neither spoke, "It never has been." Silence, "It never will be."

More silence. Until he spoke again, "If you continue this relationship, people will use it against you."

Against him. Against you. Against everyone. Political rivals. Noble families. Future opportunities. Everything.

Lord Lee wasn't lying and that was the problem. He was telling the truth. And Heeseung hated it.

---

Meanwhile, you were completely unaware of any of this because you were too busy sneaking around with Heeseung. Entirely his fault. Mostly.